


Professor Strife

by Basilton



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Aromantic Cloud, BAMF Cloud Strife, Character Death, Dad!Cloud, F/M, Gen, M/M, Time Travel, Zack Fair & Cloud Strife Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 48
Words: 107,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basilton/pseuds/Basilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Cloud has his life sorted out. Going from delivery boy to travelling healer in the post-Meteor world, he finally has peace. When Denzel travels back through time, he has to leave it all behind to help his son in the world he thought he escaped. But taking Hojo's job? That was an accident. Mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death of a Scienceman

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to KittenFair for being my beta reader on this. Check out their fic, [To Be Human](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2891198)

**Part 1**

 

_I_ _solemnly pledge by witness of all the gods and goddesses to consecrate my life to the service of humanity._

It is said that a butterfly flapping its wings will create a hurricane halfway around the Planet. The smallest changes will ripple out, creating huge, unpredictable changes.

As for the changes an actual hurricane makes, well the less said the better.

The laboratory on the 68th floor of Shinra’s proud Midgar headquarters was a place dedicated to creating hurricanes in human form, soldiers who from a young age were enhanced with the very essence of the Planet. To outsiders, it was barbaric human experimentation inflicted on children. But to Shinra, it was power, and through this power Shinra ruled the known world.

_I shall practice my profession with conscience and dignity._

Walking through the corridors of this laboratory was a research assistant, small and pale with blond hair slicked back by heavy gel. Just another in the long line of disposable cogs in the endless machine of Shinra. He waved an ID badge at the stationed troopers and barely receiving a nod in return, pushed through the thick double doors that lead to one of the Shinra’s many legends.

For those who know of him, it was mainly for his creation of the greatest of those legends, Sephiroth. Shinra’s greatest living weapon, and the man who was leading the company’s offensive against the upstart nation of Wutai. But this man was a legend in his own right, spoken of in hushed whispers and unseemly rumours. His name was Professor Hojo, and this was his domain.

_I will not be ashamed to say “I know not.” I will eagerly learn from those who came before me, and gladly share knowledge with those who are to follow._

The assistant lingered at the entrance of the room as the doors flapped shut behind him. This laboratory looked much like any other in Shinra, but for the presence that no amount of disinfectant or chemical bath could ever remove. It smelled of death and worse, of unnatural things that should never have been thought of let alone pursued.

That presence was thick in the air today. On a bare steel operating table lay a creature that had met a wretched end, skin peeled back and pinned down with tall needles, a bloody scalpel laid neatly to the side of its torn ribcage. Standing next to the table was Professor Hojo, hunched over a keyboard as he furiously entered the latest results into his terminal.

_I will respect the secrets that are confided in me, for their problems are not disclosed to me for all the world to know._

The assistant took a few steady, shaky breaths to calm himself and approached the desk. Hojo was an intimidating man, but not due to looks. He was a small weedy man, thin and bespectacled with greasy hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. But in Shinra, that is what real power looked like. Though soldiers had spread the influence of Shinra far, it was scientists and engineers who had built the company, and no scientist had the President’s ear more than Hojo.

“Ah, I see you found us. Didn’t get lost, I hope?” Hojo asked, turning in his chair with the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. His voice was nasal but far from cold, and his eyes twinkled behind his spectacles as he took in the shaking assistant. “We have so much to do today, no time to waste! Clean up that specimen, will you, and we can get started.”

_I will accept no entreaty to administer poison to anyone; neither will I counsel any to do so._

With his orders given, Hojo turned his back on the assistant and buried himself back in his work.

The research assistant took off his glasses, dropping them on the edge of the operating table. The creature looked nearly humanoid, with an almost spherical body and small head, with four short limbs still strapped down to the table. The leather restraints had been twisted and stretched under its struggles, splashing blood all over the table and floor. It seemed the creature had still been alive while its skin had been peeled off, the operation only being abandoned when the struggling animal had succumbed.

With a hesitant grip, the assistant plucked the scalpel from the table and turned back to the professor.

Lunging forward, he grabbed the professor by his collar with one hand and threw him against the side of the table, stabbing the scalpel into the professor’s throat with deadly precision. Taken by surprise with the sudden assault, Hojo lurched back, nearly falling over the table and only staying upright by the strong grip on the front of his clothes. Panicking, his hand dived into his lab coat, searching desperately for the handgun strapped to his side, only for a strong hand to close over his own and prevent him from pulling the weapon loose.

“Wh—” Hojo barely managed to say with his remaining breath.

His assailant gave no answer to the unfinished question, kneeling down next to him in silence as the professor’s eyes grew dim. With calm precision, he opened up the side of the professor’s coat and pulled out the keycard clipped on to his belt. He stood, flipping the keycard on to the bench before he turned to one of the industrial sinks lining the wall and washed his hands of the task, ensuring that his own spotless coat was clean of any of the expected blood spatters. Satisfied that he no longer needed it, he rinsed his hair of the oppressive gel, running his fingers through his blond locks until all the gunk had been washed down the sink and his hair was back to his natural, though unusual, spikes.

_I will make a habit of two things: to help, or at least, to do no harm._

 


	2. Fragments of Memories

**October 9 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

When you’re in over your head, and I mean _really_ in over your head, like when you’re in the middle of a building with literally First Class security and you’ve just killed one of the most important people in said building, well, it’s usually best to keep your head down and push through. Stopping to think about what you’re doing can have the unfortunate side effect of suddenly realising _oh god what the hell am I doing?_ and in a dangerous situation losing your head can lead to… well, losing your head.

It was a lesson Cloud Strife had learned many times, though he was the first to admit he didn’t always follow that lesson as well as he should. This time, though, he followed it to the letter, avoiding the vacant gaze of Professor Hojo on the floor next to him as he slipped the dead man’s keycard into the terminal on his desk. There was no telling how long it would be before security caught him but if there was one thing Cloud could count on, it was that his luck never held for long.

His teeth worried his bottom lip as he searched the computer as fast as his two finger hunt-and-peck would allow him. All of Shinra’s dirty little secrets were at his fingertips, and with Hojo still logged in, nothing was in his way. He combed through files, searched diaries, each one contributing to the growing stack of paper that was accumulating on the printer.

Too soon, the doors to the lab swung open.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but— oh, my apologies. Have you seen Professor Hojo?”

Cloud turned to see the intruder, instantly recognising the navy blue suit, sharp features and neat ponytail. Tseng, the leader of the Turks, Shinra’s personal henchmen, assassins and spies. Well, one thing hadn’t changed — when Cloud’s luck went south, it migrated for the winter.

“No,” he said, trying to avoid any telltale glance at the body behind the desk as he continued printing out scores of documents. He heard the clicking of expensive dress shoes on tile and he knew the game was up. Another punch, time to roll with it.

His body tensed, just waiting for it. The short intake of breath, the quick rustling of cloth. A mechanical click ringing too loud in the quiet room as the safety was released.

“Oh, that Hojo. Yeah, I’ve seen him,” he said as calmly as he could manage.

“Security!”

Cloud kept his head facing forward, slowly raising his hands above his head as his ears strained to hear what was going on behind him.

The doors bursting open, heavy boots thudding on the floor. Confused whispers. The sound of rifles being readied. Two sets of boots walking with more determination, in different directions. Flanking him.

He risked turning to face them. The presence of the infantrymen seemed to relax the Turk, enough for him to slide his weapon back into the jacket holster and stop his careful advance just short of Cloud. “You’ll come with me.”

Cloud nodded, not letting his hands drop as the Turk turned him around, pulling a thick pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket and securing Cloud’s hands behind his back. Tseng remained silent through the process, though he could feel the tension rolling off the Turk, easily imagining that the demands for more information were only being held back by his sense of duty. For his own part, Cloud remained pliant throughout his arrest, keeping his eyes cast down while the two infantrymen put a hand on both of his arms and led him out of the room. They shouldn’t recognise the mako glow in his eyes, thick colour changing contacts were good enough for that, but it paid to be careful anyway.

Jumpy security forces greeted them as they left the lab, more of the standard Shinra infantry in their blue uniforms and tri-eyed helmets taking up positions outside in the corridor. They lowered their rifles as Cloud was dragged out, several of them standing to attention and saluting the Turk as he passed behind them on vigilant guard.

From his not so fond memories of the Shinra building, it did not take long for Cloud to figure out where he was being taken. For reasons best left unsaid, the 67th floor not only contained the headquarters and labs of the Science Department, but also a substantial number of jail cells — ones that he had become intimately familiar with during the rescue of Aerith. Noting with a sense of irony that they had chosen the same cell he had been imprisoned in previously, he was shoved inside without a word.

The mechanical door of the cell sliding closed with a final clunk, Cloud was left alone since the first time he had infiltrated the Shinra headquarters. He let his mask slip and his shoulders sink, finally allowed a moment to relax and the weight of the world to lift, just for a moment.

“ _I knew that you’d come for me.”_

“I didn’t come for you, Aerith,” he whispered to the memory.

No, there was only one reason he had come, one person he had come for.

 

* * *

 

**July 15 th, [ ν ] - εγλ 0013**

“He found one of Shinra’s abandoned experiments,” Vincent had explained to him as they sat at the bar of Seventh Heaven. His friend had been hesitant to explain what had happened, a nervous encounter that was so out of character for the confident gunman. All Cloud knew was that it was about Denzel and the paranoia of a father knew no bounds.

“ _Vincent._ ” He was almost grinding his teeth. “Get to the point.”

“He jumped into a pool of mako.”

“ _What_?! Why?!” A hundred questions were ready to go in his mind, sorted in order of importance and itching to pass the bottleneck of his mouth. By sheer fluke, he summed up most of them in those two words.

“There was a hatch in the floor, a tube leading down into a vortex of mako. That was where the glow was coming from. As to why—” Vincent pulled out a whole folder of documents, with one carefully placed on the top. “I turned the place inside out, but I found what I needed.”

Neither of them were strangers to trying to sift through the documents of scientists and madmen, where each piece of information could be so painfully detailed that it made no sense to anyone outside the experiments. Teams would spend weeks combing through minutiae of statistics, feeding times, dosage levels and never understand what had happened there — and that was for experiments without the secrecy and paranoia that had become so typical of Shinra’s Science Department. But there was one document where it was all laid bare and explained for even the simplest of minds: a funding request.

_I have found further evidence that the Cetra successfully used this same method. Records found near the site corroborate my theory of extinction: a virus that all records name ‘the Calamity’ was decimating the population despite their powers of healing. [Modeoheim excavation, p. 8] It is my theory that the Cetra used this as a means to travel back in time to stop the virus before it had started. Records indicate that although the travel was successful, each attempt to halt the virus only made it more virulent. [Modeoheim excavation, p.46]_

The “travel back in time” part was where Cloud had pulled the bottle of scotch from behind the bar. He wasn’t really a drinker, but if there was ever a time when someone needed something with more kick than beer, this was it. Even Vincent didn’t turn down a tumbler full.

_Several rare materia are needed for the process, as such I request additional funds to acquire the following materia to begin trial runs._

_— Prof. Gast_

“He died before he could even send the request. Knowledge of the project died with him.”

“Rare materia…” Cloud sighed and downed a mouthful of the amber liquid.

“If you check your lockbox, I think you will find those missing.”

“But why did Denzel want to… travel back in time?” Even back then, the phrase sounded idiotic.

“You know him better than I do. But,” Vincent had paused dramatically, as he so often did, “before it happened, he said he wanted to make things better. To make you happy.”

It was at that point that the logic of a hero worshipping boy had caught up with him. To go back in time would mean being able to stop the horrors of Meteorfall, of all the atrocities Shinra had committed before and after. To save the people Cloud had lost: his mother, Zack, Aerith. To stop Sephiroth and save the world. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. Never mind Denzel being unable to pull off those feats, being just a boy trying to take on supernaturally enhanced opponents, but there was the potential of just making it worse — after all, the Crisis had saved the world from a slow death at the hands of Shinra.

It had not taken long before he came to the decision to go after Denzel. He was always a man of action, preferring to do something foolish rather than do nothing at all. He would leave behind his friends, and although Vincent had offered to go with him, he asked his friend to stay behind to let the others know. The world no longer needed him, but Denzel did.

Leaving Tifa behind was the hardest part. For all the temptation to just leave Vincent to break the news to her, that was the coward’s way out. That was the old Cloud, the one who would run rather than face reality. In the end, he could not do that to her, and called her as he made his way down the reactor that had housed the experiment.

“You know that I have to go.”

_“What about the people you leave behind, Cloud? What about Marlene?”_

“You will always be there for her, and so will Barret. Denzel has no idea what he’s getting into, he needs me.”

_“You’re running away again, Cloud.”_ He could hear the phone being put down as Tifa tried to wipe away tears, just as he used his finger to wipe away the small drops forming in his own eyes. “ _But at least you’re doing it for the right reasons this time. Promise me you’ll come back to me.”_

“I can’t promise that. But I promise I will take care of Denzel.”

_“I’ll miss you, Cloud.”_

The memory was gone and he was back in his cell, alone again.


	3. Interrogation

**October 9 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Sitting on the edge of the bunk bed — it was barely comfortable enough to be a seat, let alone to lie down on — Cloud rummaged through his pockets for anything that could help his escape. A keycard, a pen, and a sad wallet with more holes than gil. Nothing brilliant. The plan had been to keep nothing incriminating or dangerous in case he was caught by security on the way in. As usual, he’d neglected to plan anything for the way out.

How had they escaped this cell the last time? Oh, that’s right. Sephiroth had come back from the dead and slaughtered everyone from this floor up to the President’s office, then opened the cell doors for them. Probably best not to wish for that to happen again.

He shoved his few possessions back into his pockets, a task rather hindered by the handcuffs still shackling his wrists together. He could always snap them, but he thought better of giving away his mako enhancements too soon. He could take down the Turks and troopers fairly easily if he could get them by surprise, but the chances of taking down a building full of SOLDIERs weren’t looking promising.

The muffled sound of heavy boots outside his cell interrupted his last minute plotting. The door slid open with a quiet whirr, spilling harsh fluorescent light into Cloud’s overly sensitive eyes. Squinting against the intruding glare, he could make out the silhouette of two guards standing in the doorway.

“Come with us,” one of them said, both troopers standing rigid in the doorway as Cloud leisurely stood and joined his guards, shaking his head from side to side to ease the oncoming headache.

The silent one took his elbow and he let himself be escorted through the sterile white hallways, down one set of stairs and into one of a series of unmarked doors. The room was bare concrete, a single table and two chairs sat in the middle, the only remarkable feature being a large mirror along one side of the room. Of course, and interrogation room.

The troopers unlocked his cuffs and sat him down in the chair with his back to the wall, though the freedom allowed him only a bare few shakes of his sore wrists before they shackled him down to the chair and left the room, door closing behind them.

It was some time before the door opened again and Tseng sat down across the table from him, laying down a rather thick stack of documents at the table. A bluff, Cloud thought with a touch of hesitance. There was no way they could know anything about him.

After a short show of ordering the papers, Tseng pressed a button on the tape recorder in the middle of the desk and leaned forward, arms on the table with his hands held together, still looking at a single sheet of paper he had laid out in front of him.

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Cloud Strife.”

A short scribble on the sheet.

“And where are you from, Mr. Strife?”

“Doctor.”

Tseng looked up for the first time. “Pardon?”

“Doctor Strife.”

“My apologies. Where are you from, Doctor Strife?”

“Nibelheim.”

Another scribble.

“Your age?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“You mentioned you are a doctor. Where are you registered?”

“Mideel.”

“And why did you want to kill Professor Hojo?”

Cloud froze, his mind racing for an answer. What could he say that would be even remotely satisfactory? Tseng stared at him, eyes slightly narrowed. He panicked, knowing his time was running out. “I don’t understand the question,” he said lamely.

“It seems simple enough.”

“It’s… there are too many reasons. You’d have a hard time finding someone who _didn’t_ want to kill him.”

It obviously didn’t satisfy Tseng, but they both knew they would be back to that question later. Tseng was happy to take his time and Cloud… well, he didn’t exactly have anywhere to go. Proving his hunch right, Tseng was diving into personal questions, trying to find out who he was. Something that was very dangerous to Cloud, but he had no choice but to answer in a way that would satisfy the Turk.

“Let’s go back to yourself. Why did you want to become a doctor?”

Cloud frowned. “I don’t see how that’s… relevant?”

“I’ll decide what is and isn’t relevant, doctor. Please, answer the question.”

“My son got into an accident… he was hurt, very badly.”

 

* * *

 

**November 27 th, [ ν ] - εγλ 0009**

“Ow! OW! Dammit, Cloud, it hurts!”

“Shh, shh. Denzel,” Cloud said as he pressed his forearm against the boy’s chest, pinning him down to the bed. “You need to stop moving. I’m going to get it out, but you need to be calm. Can you do that for me?”

Denzel nodded, his face already two shades too pale. “I’m scared, Cloud.”

Cloud just nodded. He was beyond terrified himself, but he just couldn’t let it show. He had plenty of experience stitching up battle wounds, but never on someone so young. He had nearly died from shock himself when Denzel had dragged himself into their home, trailing blood from the thick pipe impaled through his chest.

“I got it! I got it,” Tifa huffed, bursting through the door with the first aid kit from Cloud’s motorcycle. “Oh gods.” She put her hand to her mouth as she took in the sight, Denzel lying still and deathly pale on a bed soaked with blood.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Cloud lied. He snatched the kit from Tifa’s hands and ripped it open, spilling the contents over the bed. “I’m gonna get it out, then I’m gonna cast a Cure that’ll make Aerith jealous. Got me?”

Snatching up the rubbing alcohol, he straddled Denzel’s legs, pinning them down to the bed. “Tifa, hold him down.” Brushing a gentle hand against the boy’s cheek, Cloud looked carefully into his trembling eyes. He was sure the tears he saw there were mirrored in his own eyes. “Denzel, this is gonna hurt, but it’ll be all over after that. Okay?” Denzel nodded when Tifa’s strong hands gripped both his shoulders.

Cloud gripped a hand around the offending metal bar and with a heavy heart, pulled. Denzel screamed and thrashed. Cloud threw the bar aside and pressed down hard on the wound, blood seeping in between his fingers. His hands were soon enveloped with a soothing green glow, tiny sparkles of lifestream dancing about until they sunk into Denzel’s bloody shoulder. At last, the bleeding had stopped.

“It’s okay Denzel, you can sleep now.” He nodded to Tifa, who leaned down to whisper soft words in the boy’s ear, sending him off to a materia induced slumber.

“Tell me the truth Cloud, is he going to be all right?”

“He’ll live, that’s what matters.” Upending the rubbing alcohol into a cotton swab, he cleaned around the wound. “But I need to make sure this will heal properly.”

Dropping to her knees beside the bed, Tifa leaned into Denzel, brushing the hair away from his slumbering face. Taking up a cloth herself, she helped Cloud with wiping the blood from the boy’s skin. Satisfied that he had cleaned up the wound enough to prevent infection, Cloud started carefully wrapping up Denzel’s chest in heavy cloth bandages.

“Thank you, Cloud.” Letting out a heavy sigh, Tifa rested her weary and worried head against his shoulder.

_“So you became a doctor after that?” Tseng asked._

_“Well, it took some convincing.”_

It was barely an hour later and Cloud was sitting at the deserted bar of Seventh Heaven, head bowed low while one hand swirled an untouched glass of whisky, the ice long since melted. Denzel was sleeping upstairs — before joining him down in the bar Tifa had painstakingly ensured that all signs of the blood had been washed from Denzel, his clothes and the sheets. All that was left was a pile of laundry permanently stained crimson.

“I don’t think you were meant to be a delivery boy, Cloud.” Tifa was leaning behind the bar, cloth in one hand cleaning out glasses that were long past needing cleaning. It was a nervous habit of bartenders everywhere, one she had picked up from many long, awkward conversations with drunk patrons.

“What?” Cloud raised his head slightly, his train of brooding derailed by Tifa’s softly spoken words.

“When did you learn to heal like that? Reeve is asking for as many healers as he can get, you know that.”

“It was when the Geostigma came…”

“Those books you had in your office,” she interrupted, the pieces fitting together.

“They were medical books. Diseases, mostly. But anything I could find.” Taking a bitter swig of the amber liquor, Cloud grimaced. Every sense of his, including taste, had been enhanced by the mako. It made the cheap swill that Tifa sourced hard to swallow.

“Did you keep reading them?”

“They were interesting, and it seemed useful. Back in Nibelheim…” He took another half-hearted swig.

“There wasn’t much in the way of education.” Sometimes she had to finish sentences for Cloud, either to complete the puzzle before he drifted away or just to stop him from getting lost in his own thoughts. His head was a favourite place for him to hide. “But that shouldn’t stop you,” she continued, trying to steer the conversation back on course. “The world needs people to help the injured more than it needs packages delivered.”

“I like delivering packages.” The voice was sullen, almost petulant. His last ditch attempt not to give in to Tifa’s iron will.

“You like travelling.” Tifa sighed. It was true, as far as he had come in accepting his new family Cloud would always value his solitude. After Geostigma, he had promised Tifa he would always come back… but that also meant he would always leave in the first place. “You’d be doing just as much to get to the sick.”

“I’ll think about it.” Cloud took another sip of alcohol, his grimace not half as severe this time. It may have been bad, but it tasted better the more that he drank.

“How about getting some training?” Tifa pressed on, ignoring the annoyed stare she received. “Even if you decide not to, you could help so many people on your deliveries if you had training.”

“Alright, I’ll do it.” He threw his hands up in the air in sarcastic theatrics.

“Great!” Tifa beamed. “So, I called Reeve before you came down and he said there’s a doctor that’s willing to train you, so I booked…”

Cloud groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

 

* * *

 

**October 9 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

It went on for hours. Cloud never responded well to interrogations, and despite his advantages — it could not be understated the power that knowing someone’s future let you have over them — he was wearing down. It was with some relief then, when the door opened and another Turk entered the room, one he did not recognise.

“The President would like to see him.”

* * *

**October 9 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Upon first sight of the president’s office, Cloud had to hurriedly shake away a vision of the future: President Shinra’s rotund corpse skewered to the desk, Sephiroth’s iconic sword buried in his back. Instead the president was sitting down by his desk, a tall woman in a lab coat leaning over his shoulder and whispering in his ear. She was fairly young, with brown hair pulled back into a tidy ponytail and round bespectacled face, leaving him with the sinking feeling that this was someone he should recognise but just couldn’t. He had no time to think however, as both the scientist and President Shinra stopped the briefing and looked up as soon as their little entourage entered the room.

“Doctor Strife, was it?” The president took a long drag of his cigar, eyeing Cloud up and down. “I’ve had your execution scheduled for later this week. I hope that suits.”

Cloud bristled, rolling his shoulders as he stared down the president. _Snap the cuffs, one fist in each Turk’s face. Jump the desk, you can break his neck before he blinks._ He forced the thought down and stayed silent.

“Those documents you were snooping through were very interesting to me, I must say. But despite his… extracurricular experiments, Hojo was vital to this company.”

“All he did was steal Gast’s research,” Cloud muttered. With the time to think, he finally had a way to answer Tseng’s question. Something so completely out there, they had to believe it.

“Ah yes, I suppose there has been some tradition…” The president chuckled, a light twinkling behind his hooded eyes. “Yet he got results. He was an asset, Doctor Strife.” Shinra leaned forward, stubbing his cigar out in the bottom of a crystal ashtray. “I decide when Shinra’s assets become liabilities, no one else.”

“He was using Jenova cells to keep the SOLDIERs in check — but also to control them. To control Sephiroth. What do you think he would do when he could control Sephiroth?”

With his heightened senses he could feel the nervous shifting, minute as it was, of the Turks behind him. But his proclamation did not have the desired effect on the president, though whether is was through bravery or stupidity it was hard to tell. The idea of having Sephiroth turn against them was unsettling even to the most stoic, but this was not Cloud’s exaggeration. Sephiroth would turn.

“Even if Hojo were as bad as you say,” the president said, clipping the end of his cigar. “I see no reason to keep you alive.”

“I know how to develop your SOLDIERs. I can keep the project running without wasting your money on useless experiments that turn powerful people against you.”

“And just what are you suggesting?”

“I wanted revenge, for what Hojo did to me. I want to make sure that everyone knows he was an imbecile playing at being a scientist. But more than that,” Cloud leaned down on the desk, handcuff links clattering against the wood, fixing the president with his most intense stare. “I want his job.”

The room fell silent in extreme tension, the Turks ready to haul their prisoner off the president’s desk but unsure if they should proceed.

“His life, his reputation and his job,” the president said, throwing his head back with laughter. “You are a bold man, Doctor Strife. I like your ambition. Very well. I will postpone your execution. Who knows, if you’re up to the job, I may call it off completely.”


	4. Infiltrating Shinra Tower

**October 10 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Goddamn thing,” Reno grumbled, jamming his fingers into the keypad for the third time. The Turk had been with him since leaving the president’s office, ostensibly to be acting as a guide and bodyguard to the Science Department’s new director.

Bodyguard, perhaps, but guide was a blatant lie. After getting lost twice and requiring that Cloud guide him the rest of the way through the Science Department to his new office, Cloud was beginning to wonder just how Reno got his job in the first place.

“Let me do it,” Cloud said, shoving the keycard back into the lock and entering the combination they’d been given. Reno gave him a small shrug and sheepish grin when the door opened with a click.

“It’s been cleaned out,” Cloud noted as he stepped into the room. Everything looked new, from the oversized walnut desk to the expensive leather chair tucked under the computer screen. Even the bookshelves lining the wall were empty, not a document nor manual in sight.

“Yup. Cleaners work fast around here.”

_Or the Turks do._

“This was actually Hollander’s office,” Reno went on. “Hojo didn’t really keep an office, but he worked closer to the research labs.”

“This is in the hospital,” Cloud realised.

“You know your way around the place,” Reno said.

Cloud narrowed his eyes. Reno hadn’t been getting lost, he had just been testing how familiar he was with the place.

“You said you were a doctor, right? We thought it’d suit you better.”

“A doctor? I… ah, yeah,” Cloud said with a resigned sigh. He had taken on many mantles: warrior, mercenary, terrorist. Doctor was just the latest in a long line of titles he had been given but despite his bravado yesterday, he had never been able to wear it comfortably.

“Come on, let’s get going. Next stop: your very first non-faked ID!”

“Just look straight ahead, sir, and… there.” The blinding flash of the office camera left Cloud blinking in confusion, only able to hear the whirring of an industrial printer as he worked the bright spots out of his eyes. The bored woman at the reception desk gave a barely even half-hearted, I’ve-been-at-the-same-job-twenty-years kind of a smile as his vision returned. “There, you go, Mr. Strife…” She gave the ID badge a quick once-over, eyes widening and stance stiffening once her eyes had located ‘Director, Science Research Department’ on the card. “Please, if there’s anything at all I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask.” She beamed, smile ratcheting up to sycophantic proportions.

With a quiet word of thanks Cloud took the badge, pinning it to the pocket of his newly acquired suit. His aversion to lab coats had led him to discard his ‘borrowed’ one, instead using his lavish new expenses account to, at Reno’s insistence, buy a pricey new three-piece from one of the upper plate’s more expensive tailors. While he had been resistant to the idea at first, he was starting to see why the Turks liked the standard business suit just in terms of sheer practicality. It was loose enough that it wouldn’t be getting in his way in combat and if it wasn’t for his hair he would blend in perfectly with the crowds that milled around the Shinra building.

“All good, Dr. S?” Reno pushed away from the wall and joined Cloud as they walked back to the central elevator.

Reno shouldered through the opening elevator, ignoring the indignant squawk from a man trying to exit. “Hey, I’m starving,” he said as he slouched against the wall of the elevator. “Let’s get some dinner.”

Sparing a glance at the poor man to make sure he hadn’t fallen, Cloud hurried into the elevator cab. “I was going to eat alone.”

“Nah, only sad bastards eat alone. Besides, I’ve haven’t eaten upper plate in ages.” His voice had taken on a distinctive whine, one that in the past — or future, semantics were unclear here — always preceded a declaration that it was Cloud’s turn to buy lunch, get the next round (even if Cloud didn’t drink) or fight the rapidly approaching monster.

“If you want to go to a restaurant, then go.” Cloud’s voice likewise had taken on the distinctive tone that he was about to cave, just to prevent further whining from the man. Luckily this Reno did not have experience with that voice, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to cave anyway.

“Haven’t you seen what they pay us plebs? I don’t make in a year what you make in a month, and I’m putting my life on the line every day!”

Cloud just raised his eyebrow at the Reno’s insistence of the dangers of his job. He knew better than most what being a Turk involved, but he had just yesterday continued the tradition of the head of the Science Department meeting a bloody end.

“Alright,” Reno conceded to the silent point. “But you’re still paying.”

“Fine.” Cloud sighed. He was getting hungry himself at this point, and he did enjoy spending time with Reno. Even if most of it was back and forth bickering.

“Great!” Reno practically skipped out as the elevator dinged their floor, opening its metal doors to the executive car park. Turning back to flash a lopsided grin, he headed towards Cloud’s new car. “I know this place that’s never crowded because it’s too far away from a train station, I did a job once that…”

Cloud tuned out Reno’s happy babbling as they walked over to his new car. A car that Reno had picked, Reno had tested and Cloud had still yet to drive. He didn’t even know if it was his car in paper, let alone in spirit. A blocky, big-engined sedan with leather seats and a dash with more dials than a helicopter. It was Reno’s sort of car, a complicated yet powerful beast that took a quick mind to tame. Cloud, on the other hand, hated a vehicle that was just a cage with a million controls. A motorcycle, _his_ Fenrir needed no taming. It responded to his body like an attentive lover, interpreting his subtle movements, moving with just the slightest squeeze and on more than one occasion making it hard to sit down after long periods of riding.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Reno said indignantly, snapping his fingers in front of Cloud’s face.

“Yeah, fine.” Cloud didn’t even flinch at the fingers as he dismissed Reno with a shrug, opening the passenger door of the car and getting in. Once again Reno had not-so-subtly manoeuvred himself into driving — he couldn’t care enough to object.

“So, I have to ask,” Reno said, giving a quick glance to his passenger before twisting the keys and firing up the powerful engine. “It wasn’t just Hojo’s job, was it? You had another reason to off him.”

“If you spent any time with the man, you’d have the same urge.”

Reno laughed. “Ok, that’s true.”

The journey to the restaurant was the same back and forth. Reno would ask a question, subtle or direct, often a different angle to a question he got an unsatisfactory answer to, which counted nearly all of them. Cloud would respond with an answer he already knew, which was unhelpful, or an answer that deflected the question, which was annoying. Always his reply would be short and controlled, betraying nothing of the man or his motives. It was if he knew all of Reno’s tricks, and that was just beyond irritating to the Turk.

“Seriously, you sneak into the most secure level of Shinra Headquarters, kill one of the top five people in the company, demand his job _and then get it_ ,” Reno said as they both stepped out of the car and into the bitter cold of a Midgar night. For a brief moment, his tone had slipped from frustration to more than a little admiration.

“Maybe the president saw that Hojo was a liability.”

“Reservation for Reno,” he said to the doorman as they entered, who swallowed back his nervousness upon seeing the distinctive blue suit and promptly led them to their private booth, Cloud self-consciously tucking his ID badge into his pocket as they walked.

The food was worthy of the reputation the restaurant had in Reno’s eyes, and halfway through the first course Cloud was beginning to enjoy himself. Shellfish was an expensive commodity in landlocked Midgar, but it had a taste that even the notoriously cheap Cloud could appreciate paying for. The drinks were likewise exceptional, premium beers that made Tifa’s best look like chocobo piss in comparison. He had always known there was a huge divide between the rich and the poor in Midgar, between those above and below the plate. But he had never known what above-plate life was like before, having spent all his time in the army or in the slums. After Meteor, things had become balanced. There were still people who were still rich, and people who were still poor, but after that great calamity, the rich were harder working and less decadent, the poor were less oppressed and able to fend for themselves.

“So, where did you grow up?” Reno’s question caught him out of his musings, another delve into introspection that he couldn’t afford while being watched.

Putting down a particularly juicy king prawn he was just about to eat, Cloud replied, “A small town near Corel.”

“Nibelheim, right? It said on your records.”

“Yeah.”

“But it also said you were fourteen and a trooper recruit.” Reno leaned back on the bench seat, letting the leather groan satisfyingly around him. He shot Cloud one of his appraising looks, as if he was trying to size someone up for the first time, to see what he had missed. “Is Cloud even your real name? It sounds too stupid to make up.”

Levelling his best glare at the redhead, Cloud leaned into the table. “I’m buying you dinner and you’re insulting me. Shut up and eat.” There were no traces of threat in his low voice. He didn’t need them.

“Sorry man, I didn’t mean anything by it, heh.” Reno bit back a grin and adjusted his collar. “Just curious, is all.”

Cloud shoved the prawn into his mouth, trying not to betray his surprise. If his younger self had joined Shinra and just disappeared, that would create a lot of loose ends he needed to tie up. “I needed access to Shinra somehow,” he explained once he had been able to swallow.

“Ok, no more business talk outta me. I’ll show you the bar that’s near to HQ, everyone goes there. Then we can call it a night, alright?” Cloud readily agreed to the offer, if only because attached to it was a promise that his time with Reno would come to an end. While he didn’t mind the company of the redhead normally, Reno was someone who he could only manage in small doses.

 

* * *

True to his word, Cloud was whisked away to the Goblin’s Bar, a dive in Loveless Avenue that was respectable enough for Shinra employees to openly walk in, but not so respectable that they couldn’t afford it on their miserly wages. The place was packed with military figures, SOLDIERs and the trooper hopefuls, celebrating a successful mission or just the end of a hard day.

“I’ve gotta leave ya here and get back on duty,” Reno explained as he ordered only one beer at the bar, leaving Cloud behind with a bottle of alcohol in his hand and an annoyed expression on his face. “Enjoy yourself, you can catch the train back… or you can call me. Whichever!” With a short wave, the redhead turned and disappeared into the crowd. Cloud turned back to the bar, resigned to at least finishing his beer before taking the train back. He wouldn’t risk being stuck with Reno again if he accepted the ride home.

“Hey, two beers please, buddy,” a voice from the stool next to him called at the bartender. A voice he would recognise anywhere. _Zack_. He knew he should avoid looking, should just keep his cool and leave, but he could not resist. His gaze turned, finding the face of the man who had died for him, looking very much alive and much, much younger than he remembered.

“Hey.” Noticing Cloud’s attention on him, Zack turned his head to smile at the man. “I’m Zack. SOLDIER, Second Class.”

 _Second class._ Cloud gave back a weak smile of his own. “I’m Cloud.”

“Nice to meet you, Cloud.” He pushed a few gil notes over the counter to the bartender. “Are you new here?”

Cloud nodded. “My first day.”

“Well, me and my buddy are celebrating his promotion.” Sliding off the barstool, Zack turned and gave another easy smile. “The party’s a bit too small, why don’t you join us?”

Cloud just nodded, dropping to his feet and following behind past/future mentor. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could deny Zack.

“Picking up strays again?”

“Kunsel, this is Cloud.” Cloud took another look at Kunsel, a fair looking man with thick brown hair and sharp blue eyes. His foggy memory conjured up a picture of one of Zack’s friends — he guessed it was one of Zack’s memories, but then why couldn’t he remember the man without his helmet on? The two of them exchanged greetings and Zack sat down opposite Kunsel in the booth, Cloud sitting down beside Zack.

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Cloud offered, holding up his beer bottle for the others to clink against.

Both of the young SOLDIERs beamed. “Yeah, it’s great!” Kunsel enthused, taking a large swig of beer. “I’m almost keeping up with Zack.”

“We’ll both be Firsts in no time, man. You’ll see!” Zack grinned, following Kunsel’s fine example in downing the alcohol.

Cloud bit his lip for a moment, contemplating the possibilities. If there was anyone he could trust at the moment in this world, it would be these two. “You two are both SOLDIERs. Do you know if there’s been a new recruit named Denzel?”

“Hm, yeah… I think I know of a Denzel Strife,” Kunzel said. “Yeah, he’s in one of the new groups that came through, I remember his file.”

Zack grinned and ruffled Kunsel’s hair, much to the other SOLDIER’s annoyance. “Kunsel knows everything that goes on in Shinra.”

“Why did you want to know?” Kunsel asked after successfully batting Zack’s hands away.

“I’m Cloud Strife,” he said by way of explanation.

Zack chuckled. “Keeping an eye on him, yeah? Don’t worry, he’s in good hands.” It was indeed a great relief to know that Denzel had successfully joined the army. He knew where the boy was, for now, and it was unlikely he would see active duty for at least several months.

“So what do you do at Shinra, Cloud?” Kunsel asked.

“Oh, I haven’t _done_ anything.” _Apart from killing one of the highest ranking members of Shinra_. He gave the SOLDIER what he hoped was a friendly smile. “First day, it’s just been ID badges and paperwork.”

“Yeah, I get you.” Zack grinned playfully. “We get the same. ‘Here’s your bunk, your locker and pay that wouldn’t make a farmhand jealous.”

Cloud settled amiably into the conversation, content to just let the two friends banter between each other, only offering his opinion when asked. Of course, since he was with the terminally friendly and inclusive Zack, that was more often than normal. Not that he minded, Zack was alive and Denzel was as safe as he could hope, two of his greatest worries falling down by themselves. The future could wait, for once in his life Cloud Strife could enjoy the now.

Their drinking and talking carried on into the night, discussions about the trio of elite First Class SOLDIERs and how Zack longed to join their ranks and become a hero. The thought pulled at Cloud’s heart as Zack excitedly rambled on, wanting to explain to the teen how he _had_ been a hero, how he was so much better already than Genesis, Sephiroth or even Angeal. But he just couldn’t. The conversation soon turned to the upcoming invasion of Wutai, how Shinra were finally going to take the fight to the Wutaian capital and defeat it once and for all.

“It’s getting late, I should go.” Cloud excused himself from the table, unable to continue hearing their Shinra-poisoned imaginings of the glory of subjugating a proud and peaceful people. He exchanged his goodbyes with the pair before heading to the door.

Walking out of the bar, Cloud sighed heavily. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that Zack was not _his_ Zack. Not the same Zack that saved him from Hojo, not the Zack that dragged him halfway around the world and died stopping an army just to protect him. This Zack was more innocent, more naive. He had not gone through the trials and trauma that the Zack he remembered had when Cloud first met him, when yet another trauma was added when he was forced to kill his mentor Angeal. He would never be through the same experiences with this Zack; he’d let the world burn before making Zack go through that again. But he’d never form quite the same bond. He could love this Zack and protect him, but he could not replace the Zack of his memories. That would be as much of a betrayal as forgetting him altogether.

It was far past midnight when he found his apartment, stumbled through the darkened rooms until he found the bedroom and crawled into bed.


	5. Shinra Company

**October 11 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Cloud woke to the intrusive light of sunrise glaring through the screen windows of his bedroom, bathing it in an eerie red glow. The curtains were on some sort of electronic controls that he couldn’t be bothered figuring out when he arrived at his new home last night, a decision he was regretting now as the brilliant light crept into his vision. He rubbed his bleary eyes, trying to rid himself of the sticky, heavy feeling in his eyelids. Great, he’d fallen asleep with his contacts still in.

He swept the sheets aside and shimmied himself to the edge of the bed, mentally trying to count how many drinks he ended up having last night and coming to the sum total of ‘too many’. Groaning, he stood from the bed and stumbled sleepily towards what he hoped was the bathroom.

Five minutes later he was showered and dressed in one of the many identical suits he had found in the wardrobe — along with a note from Reno asking him not to look too closely at the bill. The apartment looked different in the warm light of the morning. It still carrying the cold conformity of modern corporate design but the empty space of the huge rooms did not seem as lonely. It was far from the rebuilt Seventh Heaven he had come to call home, but just as far from the impersonal barracks and shoebox rooms he had known in the infantry.

Wandering to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, he opened the fridge and checked inside. Empty. He frowned and checked the cupboards. Empty. Well, despite being barely furnished and empty of basic supplies, he was at least glad that Shinra hadn’t just given him Hojo’s old apartment. He’d prefer to sleep in the street.

With a quick grip on his arm to make sure his armband was secure under his sleeve and his materia fitted, he twisted into his shirt jacket and left the apartment. Maybe he could get breakfast from the cafeteria.

“You must be Cloud.” He froze, the voice of his nightmares calling him from only a few short steps behind his back.

“Sephiroth,” he said in a low breath, turning to face his long-time nemesis, standing in the doorway to his own apartment. The man had changed little from how he remembered him — in appearance, anyway. His expression was more amused and less insane, but he still had the same perfectly aligned silver mane, the same ethereal, otherworldly quality about him. The only difference Cloud could tell was that he had forgone his trademark black leather coat, instead wearing the standard armour of a SOLDIER First with the sole difference of silver pauldrons on each shoulder.

“I’ll never be just a memory.”

Cloud froze, his breath coming in short gasps. “ _What?_ ”

Sephiroth chuckled to himself. “I said, you do not need to be frightened. I had no love for the late professor… no, I am just curious about you.”

“You’ll have to join the queue.” Cloud brushed past him, trying to shake off the primal fear those words had filled him with. He gave a quick glance to the open doorway that Sephiroth was standing in as he walked to the elevator. Great, he’d been given the apartment next to _Sephiroth_.

“I would rather not.” Sephiroth turned on his heel as Cloud passed and began walking with him, keeping pace as they reached the elevator.

Cloud turned back once he was safely inside the elevator. “You can visit-”

Sephiroth cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Have you eaten yet?” Cloud shook his head. “Good, you can join me.” Sephiroth jabbed the button for the SOLDIER floor. “We can discuss matters over breakfast.”

_You really need to be more assertive,_ Cloud chided himself as for the second time in two days he was dragged off to a conversation he didn’t want to have. The elevator dinged at them cheerfully to announce their floor, Sephiroth stepping out and Cloud keeping in stride. Petty as it seemed, he didn’t want to be the underling chasing after Sephiroth’s shadow like he once was.

The cafeteria was smaller than the one he remembered in the general army, though it made up for it with relative opulence. Polished wooden table-and-seat combinations covered the room, intermittently populated with soldiers in the purple and blue uniforms of second and third class SOLDIERs. Several of the seated soldiers stopped what they were doing and turned to stare, not just at the rare sight of the legendary First eating in the cafeteria, but the man who he had taken with him.

“It’s safe to say you didn’t have a high opinion of Hojo,” Sephiroth commented once they had gathered their food and found a table.

Cloud stared down at the tray he had picked up, avoiding eye contact with his long-time nemesis and puzzling at his food at the same time. Pancakes, apparently fuel for budding super-soldiers. “He was a walking mess of complexes.”

Sephiroth chuckled. “That is a very… apt description of him.”

He bit back the retort that the observation fit the one who made it better. Not that it would have made sense to Sephiroth. “I’m not interested in talking about him,” he said, spearing the first bit of pancake with his fork and plopping it into his mouth. It wasn’t bad, a bit chewy and full of sugar, but he wouldn’t turn it down.

“What would you rather talk about?”

Cloud sighed and put his fork down. “What do you want?”

“Pardon?”

He leaned forward in his seat, locking eyes with this Sephiroth for the first time. “You didn’t drag me down here to chat. Tell me what you want.”

“I merely wished to introduce myself to-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Cloud snapped. Just being in the presence of the man was playing at his nerves like someone raking a bow over taut strings. “Just get to the point.”

Sephiroth looked uncertain for a moment, though Cloud knew that no one but him would have been able to pick up on it. Too much experience with fighting the man had given him insight into his most subtle expressions. “You are talking over the enhancement of my SOLDIERS,” he said finally. “I am concerned about that.”

Cloud frowned. “I won’t hurt them, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No. I need to know that they will still be able to perform up to standard.”

“Their performance will be _fine_ , if that’s all you’re worried about,” he bit out through gritted teeth. He’d been prepared to give Sephiroth a chance, as much as he consciously could, but…

Sephiroth gave him a _look_ , one that was all raised eyebrows and disapproving frowns. “You do not approve,” he said.

“Shouldn’t you be keeping your soldiers from getting hurt?”

“Soldiers should expect to be hurt.”

Cloud shook his head. “Not from people they’re supposed to trust.”

“And they are supposed to trust you?”

“They need to trust the doctors that are responsible for their care.”

“Hojo didn’t agree.”

“No, he wouldn’,” Cloud said. “I’m… sorry, about that.”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. “About?”

“Hojo.”

“You do not need to apologise. I was not particularly fond of the man.”

“Yeah, but…” Cloud started, taking a bite of the pancake. He chewed and swallowed in his own time, enjoying Sephiroth’s irritated anticipation. Well, he wouldn’t want to _disappoint_. “Even then, he was still your dad.”

Cloud kept a close eye on his pancakes, sawing off another piece with his knife and popping it into his mouth. He wasn’t exactly the best poker player and keeping his mouth busy was the only way he could school his features and pretend that he hadn’t just dropped the biggest revelation Sephiroth had heard in his life.

He could feed the shock and unease rolling like a wave through the link. The entire cafeteria went silent, the only sound left being metal scraping on porcelain as Cloud readied another piece of pancake. If he stopped now, he didn’t know if he’d break out into a grin or just stare intently at Sephiroth’s face for any hint of insanity seeping in.

The last of the pancake found its way into his mouth and Sephiroth had still not said a word. No one had, none of the SOLDIERs daring to make so much as a sound. Cloud could feel their gazes, desperately seeking assurance from the psychic intrusion.

Cloud made his excuses and stood from the table, taking a brief detour to return his tray before leaving the cafeteria. Just outside the door, he looked back to see Sephiroth staring down at his food, brows furrowed.

 

* * *

 

Finally, lunch time. Cloud slumped back against the far wall of the elevator as it took him up to the employee break room. His brief period of information gathering hadn’t proven to be particularly fruitful, although he had learned that Hollander, whose office he was taking over, had disappeared from the company only a few days previously, coincidentally at the same time that SOLDIER First Class Genesis Rhapsodos had defected, taking with him an entire company of Second and Third class SOLDIERs. It was a… worrying turn of events.

“Hey, there you are!”

Cloud made no attempt to hide his annoyance when he stepped out of the elevator to find Reno rushing at him from across the room. Cloud gave out a loud sigh, turning to the wall and theatrically bumping his forehead against it.

“I’m not that bad, am I?” The redhead grinned at him when he turned back around. “How’s your first day?”

“I feel like a secretary,” Cloud complained, flopping into one of the comfortably plush armchairs. “Budgets, requests for stationary. I think they’re just loading me up with this crap because I’m new.”

“Trying to see how far they can push you?” Reno asked, settling into the couch opposite. “What did you do?”

“Made a big pile and set it on fire.” Cloud shrugged, peeling the wrapper of a chocolate bar he had grabbed from the vending machine. “Not my problem if they don’t get their equipment.”

“I like your style. You’re still gonna have to deal with a lot of paperwork, though.”

“Enough without having to add pointless crap to it.” Cloud bit down into the chocolate. Mmm, generic off-brand. Shinra sure had made an art out of being tight-fisted while spending huge amounts of money on worthless projects. “I need an assistant.”

“Hey, don’t look at me, man.” After having eyed Cloud’s chocolate bar for long enough, Reno jumped from the couch and headed to the vending machine. “I’m just your temporary bodyguard assistant thing. Not supposed to be doing shit like paperwork. Hey… you got any change?”

“Yeah, hold on.” Cloud lazily rummaged into his jacket pocket and pulled out a gil coin, flicking it with perfect accuracy at Reno.

“Thanks.” Reno snatched the coin out of midair with his usual excellent reflexes, staring back at Cloud for a moment before putting it into the machine. “Nice throw…”

“Maybe not paperwork, but I need some food for my place.”

“Just order it online, man.” Reno punched the button on the machine and waited for his candy. “You can get anything delivered if you live in Shinra tower.”

“Right, thanks.” Cloud nodded, he had entirely forgotten about that. Grocery delivery was a thing of the past in the future. He frowned, shaking his head slightly. Time travel just made things confusing. “Break’s over. I’ve got an appointment with some SOLDIERs.”

“Injection time?” Reno asked. “I thought only Hojo knew how to do that.” _Or he wanted everyone to think he was._

“Why do you think they gave me the job?”

The only reason the president would have considered Hojo expendable would be if someone else claimed to know the secret to SOLDIER enhancement. In truth, the reason that Hojo never told anyone was because the secret was not Hojo, but Jenova. Hojo had been playing a genetic game of pin the tail on the donkey… well, inject the Jenova into the victim.

Hojo had stumbled upon the most stable combination by blind luck, injecting small amounts of Jenova cells directly into the subject then using mako to control the dose. The exact methods were not something he could ever forget, having been tortured with them again and again over a period of five years. Floating in a tank of mako, watching the professor prepare his next treatment as his mind slowly broke under the strain.

The idea of routine enhancements was another lie that Hojo desperately did not want to be known. From the time he and Zack had escaped Hojo’s care, he had grown in power through experience and adversity, with no ‘boosters’ or enhancements. The regular injections were just another method of control — if SOLDIERs needed Shinra to stay strong, they would stay with Shinra, and if Shinra needed Hojo to keep their SOLDIERs strong, Shinra would stay with Hojo.

Of course, now he was trapped in Hojo’s scheme. If he revealed that the boosters were unnecessary, then Shinra would just decide that _he_ was unnecessary. He’d lose the opportunity before he even had the chance to use it. Yet playing along meant injecting poison into innocent kids.

“So yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Reno said, the voice breaking him out of his contemplations. “You want me to come with?”

Cloud shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted. He liked the man, not the Turk. “I think I’m safe in Shinra tower.”

Reno snorted. “Hojo probably thought that too.”

“I’ll risk it.” Cloud turned and left for the elevator, swiping his keycard for access to the Science Department floors.

With a cheerful ding, the elevator doors slid open, leading him straight into the lobby where the five eager young troops were seated and excitedly talking among themselves. Giving a nod to the receptionist, he walked up to her desk and fetched the clipboard containing their names.

“SOLDIER Second Class Kunsel,” he said, reading the first name on the top of the list. Zack’s friend from last night. He spotted Kunsel sitting on the far side of him and waved him over.

Cloud walked into the examination room, the purple clad man following close behind him. It was hard to miss the expression of surprise on his face at seeing Cloud. Ah well, it’s not like he could keep his occupation a secret for long.

“Take a seat,” Cloud instructed as he closed the door.

“Cloud? _You’re_ the one replacing Hojo?” Kunsel exclaimed, like he had the sentence wound up tight and could only fire it now.

“Yes.” Cloud went to the bench at the back of the room, wrapping a stethoscope around his neck and gathering the necessary tools.

“But… you don’t look like…” Kunsel muttered in protest, taking a seat once Cloud turned a cold glare onto him.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Cloud sighed, dragging the tray of instruments over to the nervous soldier. Wrapping the cuff of the blood pressure monitor around Kunsel’s bicep, he gave the bulb a few inflationary squeezes. “I’m just going to take your blood pressure and check your heart rate.”

Pulling the soldier’s shirt up, Cloud placed the stethoscope against his chest. “Have you been having any shortness of breath, a heavy feeling on your chest or light-headedness?”

Kunsel shook his head. “No.”

Cloud nodded, counting out the beats against his fingers before shifting the stethoscope to his elbow and releasing the pressure on the cuff, listening to the blood flow as he did so. “Well, you sound fine. You’re free to go.”

“That’s it?” Kunsel had a puzzled look on his face.

“I don’t perform procedures that patients don’t need.” His opinion of doctors who did being unspoken. “Your regular physical came back fine.”

“No booster?”

“You don’t need it,” he said. His mind was still trying to turn over a plausible excuse. “You haven’t, uh… filled out your current level, if that makes sense.”

“Huh, so the booster isn’t any use unless I’ve learned to use the mako level I already have?”

Cloud nodded. Kunsel certainly was a quick one. “That’s right.”

“How’d you know what level I was at?”

“Hojo’s records,” Cloud lied.

“So why was Hojo still giving us boosters?”

“Don’t really know,” Cloud said. “Maybe he was trying to see if he could push the limit?”

“Huh. Well, okay,” Kunsel said, hopping up from the seat. “Well, uh… thanks, Cloud.”

“Before you go… I haven’t been able to find Denzel, do you know where he is?”

Kunsel nodded. “His company was shipped out this morning to Junon.”

“Junon?” Cloud queried.

“Water training. It’s for Wutai, lots of rivers and beach landings for infantry.”

Cloud cursed. Of course they’d be speeding up training. The infantry were only considered cannon fodder by Shinra, meat to throw at the Wutai ranks as cover for SOLDIER operatives. Shinra didn’t care about age or that they were someone’s son, as long as they were there to take the bullets for more important forces.

He was going to have to get Denzel out of the army, to somehow make sure Shinra was not able to use him as leverage over Cloud. At least he was safe… until his training was done and they shipped him off to certain death.


	6. First Mission

**October 13 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Director Lazard,” Cloud greeted as he walked into the man’s office. What little Cloud knew of Lazard Deusericus was gained from the fragments of Zack’s memories he had absorbed when his friend died. Some of it was basic knowledge: the secret that Lazard was the illegitimate son of President Shinra was not hard to guess, given the striking features he shared with his half-brother Rufus.

“Professor Strife, what can I do for you?” The impeccably dressed blond executive stood from his desk, smoothing down his suit jacket as he addressed Cloud.

People knowing his name before he met them was not much of a surprise anymore, though Cloud raised an eyebrow at the strange use of Hojo’s old title. “I’d like to request a mission — there’s some research of Hojo’s that needs to be secured.”

Lazard sighed, leaning his elbows on the desk. “I suppose that this is one of Hojo’s ‘external’ research sites.” The words seemed to leave a bitter tang on Lazard’s mouth and Cloud couldn’t help but wonder how much he knew.

“Better that they be secured before anyone decides that this is a good opportunity.”

“Well, as the Science Department wants, the Science Department gets. I am curious, though. Usually Veld or Heidegger would field this sort of request.”

“Veld?” Cloud asked. The name was vaguely familiar, but he didn’t know where from.

“He is the head of the Turks,” Lazard replied with a curious look. Of course, Tseng wouldn’t have always been the head… he just assumed. He rolled the name Veld around in his mind, trying to see if it was picking up any connection.

“Ah… well, I think I’d just prefer to have SOLDIER as my escort,” Cloud said. He was beginning to hate that calculating look staring at him, like everyone was a Turk analysing his every word and making him triple-check everything that came out of his mouth.

“Ah, of course. That new rule. Well, then. I’m sure that can be arranged.” Lazard turned to his computer and tapped a few keys. “Let’s see, when do you want to leave?”

“As soon as possible,” Cloud replied.

“Let me check. Our soldiers are running in short supply thanks to the war.” Turning back to his desk and flipped open the built-in computer, browsing his files for a few moments. “Ah yes, Second Class Fair. He’s been doing nothing but training recently, I will inform his mentor and book your transport. Where did you say you were going?”

Cloud couldn’t help the hopeful corner of a smile at the mention of Zack.

“We’re going to Nibelheim.”

 

* * *

 

Cloud marched down the halls of the military training wing, expensive shoes clinking against the floor in a way that made him miss the heavy thunk of his combat boots. Or just having a simple combat uniform. The SOLDIER ones were so much more comfortable than the stupid monkey suit he had to wear now.

Recruits were running laps past him in the corridors, drill instructors yelling insults and obscenities with each heavy step. Rooms were filled with the sound of muffled gunfire or clashing swords. Shinra was readying for war, for the final push against Wutai.

Cloud numbered off the doors as he walked past. 8D, 8E, 8F. The receptionist had informed him that Zack was scheduled to be in training room 8K, but the SOLDIERs would only obey the room assignments when it suited them and would pick whichever group they had the most friends with.

The training room was filled with recruits, some active duty infantry — like he used to be — dotted around the place, but mostly just lines of freshly signed up rookies like Denzel. Several SOLDIERs, mostly third class but with a few seconds like Zack, were instructing the sweating lines of overworked teenagers through basic unarmed combat techniques. Spotting that Zack was indeed in this room, enthusiastically leading a group of soldiers through a grapple and its counter, Cloud took a seat in the far corner and waited for them to finish.“Cloud?!” One of the infantrymen blurted out incredulously when the room stopped for a break. “We thought you’d deserted! Where have you been? The sergeant is so pissed at you!”

Cloud looked up at the boy who had spoken, trying to remember the name of the man coming into view from the throng of cadets.

“Huh. You look different,” the infantryman said as he approached, slowing down with a puzzled look on his face now he could see more than just the spiky blond hair. “What happened to you?”

Cloud shrugged. “I got a job offer.”

“You did? Man, but you wanted to get into SOLDIER more than anyone.” His comment was cut off from a gruff voice calling across the hall.

“Strife! You’re showing your face back here?” Striding purposefully towards the group was his unit’s commanding officer, Sergeant Baigan. Cloud’s eyes widened slightly, his lips turning up in the hint of a twisted grin. If there was one memory he could clearly recall from his training as a cadet, it was the arsehole currently lumbering towards him.

He just had to mess with him.

Cloud stood, gently nudging Sebastian to the side so he could face the man. The sergeant was significantly older than the rest of the group, in his early twenties at least, and resented having to command and train teenagers. But what could he expect? Fourteen was an adult in Shinra terms, old enough to drink, to drive and to be sent off to die just so the company could sink their claws into a foreign land.

“I’m here to see SOLDIER Fair,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of the SOLDIER.

“You deserted on patrol, Strife. I could have you shot for that.”

On patrol… that thought set Cloud on edge. He hadn’t seen any sign of his… previous self since arriving in the past. He was working on the assumption that his younger form had disappeared or somehow been melded into him, but it would certainly raise a few awkward questions if a fourteen-year-old doppelgänger suddenly turned back up.

“Well,” Baigan said, becoming more incensed by the second. “What do you have to say for yourself?” His voice had increased to such a volume that the entire room had stopped to watch.

Cloud pulled his ID badge out his pocket, flipping it over in his fingers as he glared at the sergeant. Would a bit of petty revenge change anything? Well, what was the point in growing up if you couldn’t have a bit of immature fun?

“Sergeant Baigan,” Cloud said in a perfectly calm voice that only served to annoy the officer further. He held out his ID card, the sergeant snatching it away with an incredulous look. “I’m sorry about the deception, but I’m actually on the board of directors. I recently took over from Professor Hojo, so I’ll be responsible for SOLDIER…”

“Hi, Cloud!” Zack had wandered over while they talked, giving a brief glance to Baigan who looked ready to soil himself as his mind raced through every incident where he had been cruel to the young trooper Cloud. “What brings you here?”

Cloud gave him a small smile. It seemed to be Zack’s way, he had only known him for a day and yet he was already treating Cloud like an old friend. “I’ve got a mission for you.”

“A mission? Awesome!” Zack said with a grin, pumping his fist enthusiastically. “Angeal hasn’t let me go anywhere! What are we doing?”

Cloud smiled faintly, his friend’s exuberance reminding him of all those times Zack’s good nature had carried him through his trials. “Shinra won’t let me leave without an escort, so you get to babysit me.”

“Aw, man! I was hoping for some action!” Zack looked crestfallen at the news, but he tried to put on a smile when he saw Cloud’s barely hidden pout. “But at least we can hang out! Why are they making you have an escort?”

“New rule, apparently. I’ve got to have an escort because of my new position.”

“That’s right! Kunsel told me you were the new head of the Science Department. Oh…” Zack paused mid-sentence, his expression changing from excited to miserable in the space of a second.

Cloud stopped too, turning to look at Zack with amusement. His friend had such a comical way of using his whole body to display his emotions. Some people may have worn their heart on their sleeve, but Zack wore it on every part of his body.

“So, you really are…” Baigan trailed off, still looking dumbstruck. The expressions of the troopers that had gathered round was an incredible mix of utter glee at Baigan’s misfortune, slight terror at the idea of the head of the Science Department, and confusion as they tried to reconcile the two images of Cloud the quiet trooper and the confident looking director in an expensive suit standing in front of them.

“Can I get my ID back?” Cloud asked through the tense air, plucking said card out of Baigan’s hands. “Come on, Zack.”

“I should ask Angeal, he said…” Zack trailed off again, running his hand through his hair.

“Because of the Science Department, right?” Cloud finished for him. “It’ll be fine, right? Lazard said he was talking to Angeal about it.”

“Yeah, but I really should talk to Angeal.”

“Lazard will just tell you to go, right? It’s just for a day or so.”

“Alright,” Zack said with a resigned sigh. “I’ll need to get equipped, where should I meet you?”

“Meet me at the helicopters, Lazard should be arranging it now.” Pulling his phone from his jacket, he browsed through his contacts. Reno, SOLDIER Admin, Tseng… flicking the keys down as he walked, he brought up Reno’s number and dialled.

_Yo._

“Reno, it’s Cloud. I need a pilot to the western continent.”

_Western continent? Man, I’d love to help ya but that’s a couple of days round trip. I’ll ask Tseng, but he’s got me on a short leash._

Damn. Apart from Cid, Reno was the best pilot he knew, but… admittedly that could also be because he knew so few pilots. “Do you know any other good pilots?”

_Yeah, I got a few in mind. When do you need to leave?_

“I’m heading to the helicopters now.”

Reno laughed over the phone. _Hey, I’m supposed to be the unpredictable one, got it? I’ll see if I can get you sorted._

“Thanks.” Cloud closed the phone and shoved it back to into his jacket pocket. He was reluctant to get anyone he didn’t know involved in this mission, but maybe he could just tell the pilot to just leave and pick them back up.

He hit the button for the elevator and waited for it to take him back up.

 

* * *

 

The sun was setting over the concrete plains of Shinra tower’s mini-airport. Midgar could be beautiful at sunrise and sunset, when the sun pierced the oppressive black clouds that hovered around the city and cast the city in a gentle orange glow. From above the plate it looked like a sprawling replica of Cosmo Canyon, a great mesa carved from steel and concrete.

“Cloud!” Zack yelled from across the launch pad, jogging quickly over to catch up with him. “I got something for you,” he said with a grin, handing over his cell phone.

Puzzled, Cloud picked up the mobile phone, giving Zack a curious look and getting only a wide grin in return. “Hello?” he asked as he put the phone to his ear.

_Cloud?!_ the young voice from the other end exclaimed.

“Denzel! What were you thinking? Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Cloud was vaguely aware that he was sounding like every parent that had ever existed, but at the moment he just couldn’t care.

_You came back for me?_

“Of course I did. I promised to keep you safe.” Zack’s face had just melted into an expression of _awwwwww_. Cloud sighed once more and rolled his eyes. “Where are you?”

_I don’t need help, I’m going to be a SOLDIER like you._

“Just be careful and stay out of trouble. I’m going to bring you back here as soon as I can.” Cloud closed the phone and handed it back to Zack.

“I pulled rank and got them to bring him to a phone line,” Zack explained as he took the phone back and clipped it to his belt.

“Thanks, Zack. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“No problem. I’m kinda glad Angeal can’t keep me locked up in the training room.” Zack grinned, patting him on the shoulder. Cloud offered a smile in return.

“So where are we going?” Zack asked once the silence had stretched out beyond comfortable levels.

“My hometown, Nibelheim.”

“Nibelheim?” Zack laughed.

“You know Nibelheim?” Cloud asked, tilting his head to the side. He was sure that Zack had never heard of it before he met Cloud.

“No,” said Zack, chuckling slightly. “But it’s such a backwater name.”

“Like you’ve been there.” Cloud pouted. “Where are you from?”

Puffing his chest up and straightening his back, Zack smiled proudly. “Gongaga!”

Cloud just laughed.

“What?” Asked Zack defensively, his face falling.

“Country boy.” Cloud grinned. “A reactor outside Midgar?”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing else out there.” Zack laughed, playfully punching Cloud in the shoulder. “You’re just as much of a country boy as I am!”

“I never denied it.” Cloud smiled back.

“So why are we going there?” Zack asked once he had stopped his manic grinning, returning to his business persona immediately — which really wasn’t too different from his regular, friendly persona.

“Hojo spent a lot of time there. Remote and with access to a reactor.” Cloud grimaced at the thought. He knew what was waiting there for him, he just hoped he could keep his eyes looking forward and moving ahead before his fear caught up to him. “Hojo was up to no good there and I want to make sure it harms no one.”

Zack smiled. “Sounds like you want to be a hero.”

“A hero isn’t something you can want to be, Zack. It’s something that’s forced on you… and in the end takes everything away.”

“Yeah, what about Sephiroth?” Zack countered, restlessly swinging his arms as he began doing squats on the tarmac. “Or Angeal and Genesis?”

Cloud shrugged. It was ironic to be telling Zack of all people what it meant to be a hero. He wasn’t sure himself what it meant, the minute he tried to define _hero_ he thought of Zack. “There’s more to being a hero than just power and fame. What matters is how much you are willing to give up.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t know what I’m willing to give up yet!” Zack pondered in between breaths as he continued his exercise routine. “Maybe I’ll find out.”

_Everything, Zack._ Cloud frowned, “It’s not a title you can give yourself either.”

“Excuse me, are you Director Strife?” A short man with messy brown hair, dressed in a drab grey suit appeared from behind one of the helicopters and began walking towards the pair.

“Yes,” Cloud said. _How many titles do I have now?_ he wondered silently. That was at least the third different one since getting the job.

“I’m your pilot. Where are we going?”

“Western continent, to Mt. Nibel,” Cloud replied. “I want you to avoid the town and drop us at the reactor.”

“Yes, sir. Strap in, we’ll get going immediately.”

They followed him over to his aircraft, a cross between a helicopter and plane, with a thick helicopter body capable of transporting troops and twin rotors on the large wings, reminding Cloud distinctly of the Tiny Bronco, for the brief time that the plane was airworthy rather than just being an odd boat.

“We can’t take a helicopter all the way to Mt. Nibel without stopping to refuel.” The pilot explained as they boarded the plane. “The vertiplane will get us there faster.”

Cloud nodded, strapping himself into the complicated safety harness as Zack was doing beside him. “I love flying,” Zack said with a grin, clicking the last of the buckles into place. “You?”

“I get motion sickness,” Cloud grumbled as he adjusted the straps. Apparently the last person who sat in his seat was related to a behemoth. “Not as bad as I used to get, but I still don’t like flying.”

_At least Yuffie isn’t coming on this trip,_ he thought as the engines slowly wound up to a sharp whine. _I’d rather not get vomit in my hair again._

 


	7. The Summoned

**October 14 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“We’re coming up to the Nibel mountain range!”

They had been travelling through the entire night and the sun was rising over the Nibel Mountains, a glorious sight after the long journey. Zack was snoring peacefully the entire way, unperturbed by the loud whine of the engines and regular bumps. Even Cloud, despite his motion sickness, slept through much of the night — the Highwind serving as their base for much of the time they were chasing Sephiroth, there was little choice: it was either sleep despite it, or develop insomnia.

“Once you drop us off at the reactor, head to Rocket Town to refuel!” Cloud yelled back, his voice nearly drowned out by the roaring of the engines. “Then pick us up tomorrow at midday!”

“You got it!”

The plane lurched, jolting the passengers inside, the safety harnesses strapped to their chest the only thing stopping them from falling out of the plane. Zack snapped awake from his sleep, looking around wildly as the plane started shaking around them.

“Whoa! What was that?”

“Something hit us, I guess,” Cloud replied.

Cloud stretched forward in his seat, trying to peer out the door but restricted by his harness.

He could barely hear the yelling of the pilot through the straining whine of the engines. “There’s something on our tail!” The plane was shifting into evasive manoeuvres, banking severely sideways and throwing the passengers around in their seats. “It looks like a dragon!”

Zack grappled with his harness, pulling the buckles out and snapping several more under his enhanced strength. “I’ll take care of it. Stay here, Cloud!” He jumped from his seat, grabbing the safety handle near the door and peering out of the plane. Before Cloud could react, he had leapt from the plane and out of sight.

“Zack!” Cloud yelled, struggling with his own harness. In his frustration he lurched forward, his seat buckling around him and harness snapping off, falling in tatters to the floor before being sucked out of the open door.

Following Zack’s lead, he grabbed the safety handle and peered out, eyes snapping open when he saw the scene. It was no dragon, native to the Nibel Mountains and protecting its territory, but the summon Bahamut. The dragon king shone golden in the morning light as it twisted through the air with a broadsword stuck in its side, Zack holding on to the hilt for dear life as they spun over the jagged mountains.

Drawing on the power of his materia, Cloud jumped from the plane towards the dragon, blue fire engulfing his fist as he channeled energy into the spell. The energy trailed behind him even as it built up, wisps of cloud zipping past him as his jump turned into a free fall. Seconds later and he reached Bahamut, smashing his fist into the dragon king’s massive jaw. The explosion was drowned out by Bahamut’s roar, the shockwave throwing him back into the large spines running down the dragon’s back.

“Zack!” he yelled as he caught hold of the spines, planting his feet into the thick scales for balance. He could see Zack’s hold slipping as Bahamut wheeled around in pain, arching its back to try and throw the two humans off.

Grasping the thick spines as support, Cloud half-walked, half-slid down the dragon’s back to its flank, reaching the sword just as Zack’s hold gave out.

“Cloud!” The SOLDIER yelled as he flew through the air, barely managing to grab on to one of their enemy’s solid wings to stop him from creating a Zack-sized splat in the scenery below.

“Hang on!” Cloud yelled back as he pulled the sword from the beast’s skin, causing another desperate pinwheel. Sliding down the dragon’s side, he hopped on to the wing, slicing the sword through a hard piece of bone to keep balance. Leaning down to grab Zack’s hand, he hauled his friend up and with a single heave threw him towards the spines on the back. Spinning freely through the air from the throw, Zack grabbed hold of the largest spine he could, his grip pivoting his back into the dragon’s side with an unhealthy crunch. He recovered neatly against the pain, holding on for dear life and nestling his boots where two other spines joined the dragon’s body.

Using Zack’s sword, Cloud was slicing through the thick muscles that ran through the wing he was standing on, Bahamut veering to the side as its wing started flapping uselessly in the wind. Pulling the sword from the bleeding appendage, he ran up the remains of the wing, leaping over the spikes to land on the wing opposite, only to shove the sword down as he landed, his momentum slicing through the leathery flesh until he came to a stop at the tip.

“Get ready to jump!” Cloud yelled over the roar of the rushing wind. Swinging himself up to the thick bone along the base of the wing, he ran in a straight line up the mutilated wing until he reached Zack. “He’s gonna go down, and fast.”

Taking the broadsword in two hands, Cloud summoned up the energy for his Braver technique, flickers of blue and green flames lighting up around his shoulders, growing until the fiery light covered his entire body. Lifting the glowing sword above his head, he brought it down in a powerful blow, three equal lines of force bursting forward from the impact and shattering magnificent scales, each line digging deep into the summon’s back, the cuts spewing blood and ruptured flesh into the air.

“Get ready to jump!” Cloud yelled, holding on to a ragged spine as they spiralled towards the mountain. “On three! One!”

“Two!” They narrowly missed a cliff edge as the dragon king squirmed its way around the mountain, diving lower in a desperate attempt to save itself.

“Three!” Leaping into the air at the same time, they launched themselves clear just as Bahamut smashed through a copse of trees, wood splintering around its powerful muscles as it burrowed into the snow. Pushing himself higher, Cloud ran energy along the sword blade, the metal glowing a bright blue before he slashed it down in the direction of the dragon king, the Blade Beam launching from the sword and smashing into the downed summon, which was already consuming itself in magical flames, returning back to wherever summons resided before being called by mere humans.

Zack landed in the snow with a grunt, rolling as he hit the soft surface until his momentum gave out. He leapt to his feet once he stopped moving, trying to get a bearing for where he landed. He looked up, stunned as he saw Cloud launching powerful energy blasts at their foe before dropping into a ball, sword to the side as he fell, flipping around until he landed in a graceful crouch before the dumbstruck Zack.

“Here’s your sword.” Cloud turned the sword backwards, hilt facing the SOLDIER as he offered the blade.

“Dude! I just… WHAT!” Zack stared at Cloud, his bottom jaw in danger of falling into the snow. “How are you a _doctor_? I haven’t seen _anyone_ fight like that!”

“Sorry,” Cloud said with a sheepish grin, hints of red colouring his cheeks as he pushed the sword into Zack’s hands. “You could have handled it, but I couldn’t let you get hurt.”

“I knew it!” Zack said excitedly, wrapping his arms around the smaller man in a tight bear hug. “You’re totally a hero!”

“I’m not a hero, Zack.”

“Come on, you saved my life!” Drawing away from Cloud again, he patted him on the shoulder. “Whoa, I want to see you fight Angeal… or even Sephiroth! Do you think you’d win?”

“We need to get out of here, Zack,” Cloud said, abruptly changing the subject to avoid even the thought that the other SOLDIERs would find out about his abilities. He pointed to their destination in the distance, the foreboding Mt. Nibel, towering above the other mountains in the range. “I can’t see the plane and we can’t use our phones here.”

Cloud trudged forward into the snow, cursing once again that he was wearing a stupid executive suit with ridiculous shoes. He could have danced to Nibelheim and back in his usual outfit, but the weak clothing was letting the snow and sludge seep through to his skin. Zack happily trotted ahead of him, warm in his reasonable combat boots and thick SOLDIER pants.

_It was a summon_ , Cloud thought as he walked unhappily through the snow. _So there must have been a summoner_. He had thoroughly checked the horizon, but there had been no sign of any other life in the frozen peaks. Without the ability to search further, he would be stuck with guessing.

“So how did you get so powerful, Cloud?” Zack asked, turning to walk backwards and face Cloud as he did so. “How come I’ve never heard of you?”

“It’s a… very long story, Zack,” Cloud said in a low grumble, eyes downcast as he kicked through the snow. “It’s… not something you should be dragged into.”

“We’re buddies, right?” Zack grinned, spreading his arms in an open gesture. “If you’re dragged into it, I’m right there with you.”

Cloud smiled as they marched through the thick snow together. Anyone else, and he would have been suspicious they were trying to get close to him for his power and new position. Not Zack, though. He could never be suspicious of Zack. “Ok, but there are some things I can’t tell you.”

“Hey, I’m military, right? Classified stuff and all that!” Despite the beaming smile, Cloud got the distinct impression that Zack had not done well on any Sensitive Information Handling courses.

“Don’t tell anyone about me either, I get enough questions as it is!”

Zack laughed, draping an arm over the smaller man’s shoulder as they approached the mountain pass. “Yeah, I heard Sephiroth talking to Angeal about you today. I don’t think anyone’s got _him_ interested before!”

“Yeah, great,” Cloud muttered dryly. “I’m thrilled.”

“Hey, maybe he’ll ask you on a date.” Zack grinned, only barely managing to hold back a laugh.

“Wh- what?” Cloud spluttered, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“ _Relax,_ ” Zack drawled, his arm not budging from Cloud’s shoulder. “I’m kidding… although that blush tells me you like the idea.”

“It’s the freezing wind!” Cloud yelled, shoving the SOLDIER to the side.

“Ack!” Zack yelled as he found himself flying several feet into a nearby snowdrift. “Ouch, I’ve gotta remember how strong you are.” He grinned, brushing off the snow as he stood up. He rejoined Cloud, flicking some of the snow that had stuck to his uniform at the blond. “It’s that suit, you need something badass like Sephiroth’s coat.”

“You think a giant sword and leather coat would go down well in the Science Department?” Cloud asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ok, maybe not that.” A gloved hand reached up to his chin, stroking it contemplatively. “Why did you join them, anyway?”

“It’s the experiments they do. That Hojo did, mostly. I’m just hoping I can shut them down before they realise I’m not a scientist.”

“You’re not?” Zack looked at Cloud as if he’d grown two heads.

Cloud shrugged. “I was a soldier, then a… well, then a mercenary. Then, all of a sudden I had a family. I tried being a delivery boy for a while, but then I became a… well, kind of a doctor, more a medic.”

“Family… Denzel, right?” Zack queried. “What about your wife?”

“I’m not normal enough to have a wife,” Cloud said with a sardonic laugh. Now he had lost that chance too. “I found Denzel in the ruins… slums. He was sick, so I took him in.”

“I thought you looked too young to be a dad, especially to a teenager.”

“I’m older than I look.”

Zack smiled, clasping a hand on Cloud’s shoulder. “Yeah, you look my age. I would have expected the new head to be like… a hundred, at least.” Zack stopped, suddenly looking very seriously at Cloud. “Cloud, you gotta tell me. Are you, like, a hundred?”

Cloud rolled his eyes.

They found a track just as the sun had reached its zenith, weak though it was in the icy region. The path through the Nibel Mountains wound before them, treacherous and disused, but far faster than trying to make their own path through the snow. Leading far past the reactor and village and into the mountain range itself, the path was used by few but the most desperate hunters and treasure seekers, willing to risk the most dangerous monsters in the region for exotic pelts, or even more profitable, natural materia.

“You grew up around here?” Zack asked as they trod over the frozen ground.

“Yeah, Nibelheim is just at the base of Mt. Nibel.”

“So, are names like Cloud common there?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“It’s my ma’s sense of humour,” Cloud grumbled, running a freezing hand through his spiky hair. “In the old language, Nibel means ‘cloud’ or ‘fog’ and heim means ‘home’… it’s probably ‘Home in the Fog’, ‘cause of all the mist we get. But she decided it was ‘Cloud’s Home’.”

Zack leaned his head back and laughed, the sound reverberating through the empty valleys. “Oh, that’s brilliant,” he said. Cloud did not share in his mirth, lightly thwapping the back of the dark spikes. “You were named because of a pun!”

Cloud sighed, ignored him, and kept on walking.

 

* * *

 

“It’ll be dark, soon,” he said once they had trekked further away from the valley. “We won’t make it to the reactor today. We’re gonna need to find somewhere to sleep.”

“This is your neck of the woods… or mountains. Any suggestions?”

“We should find a cave and sleep there.” Cloud looked around, trying to see if he could spot any suitable sites. “Better get a fire going too, it’s gonna be cold.”

Zack nodded, searching the horizon himself for any suitable caves. The snow had been particularly heavy recently, covering the slopes in uniformly thick sheets of powder. Even their superhumanly keen eyesight was not enough to distinguish the gaps in the blinding white landscape, to tell the difference between a cave and a bare cliff before they were close enough to touch it. Any they could see in the distance were too far to reach that night. They continued walking along the mountainside, hoping that the next winding turn would find them a hospitable cave, bundling into their arms the stray twigs and branches they could find.

The sun had barely gone down when they found a suitable cave, a shallow grotto with a large overhang of thick rock protecting the entrance from the overflowing snow. Cloud walked inside, dropping his armload of branches to the rocky floor to inspect the area. The cave itself was mostly dry and free of snow, protected as it was by the surrounding rock formation.

“One of the few caves not formed by mako streams,” Cloud said as he pressed his hand against the back wall, trying to feel the telltale heat. He pulled his hand back, shaking it in the air. It was just as freezing as the rest of their surroundings.

“That’s good?” Zack asked, dropping his own pile of firewood on the cave floor.

“Less chance of falling into a mako pit.” Something that Cloud had no intention of ever repeating. “Monsters also tend to gather close to mako.”

Zack nodded, bending down to shake off the snow that had gathered on the branches. “This isn’t going to be enough,” he said after a few shakes. It seemed like they had gathered more snow than wood.

“How sharp’s your sword?” Cloud asked as he peered around the entrance of the cave.

“Huh?” Zack turned his head, shooting him a puzzled expression.

“Well, there’s a tree not far from here.” Cloud pointed back the way they came, though he could have pointed in any direction on the heavily forested slope.

With a quiet click of the magnetic holster, Zack pulled the broadsword from his back to look at it mournfully. “You want to cut down a tree with my sword?” he asked, puppy eyes widening and voice taking on the hint of a whine. “But you could damage it.”

“No more than cutting through dragon scales,” Cloud said, ignoring the pathetic looks as he took the sword from Zack’s reluctant grasp. “I’ll be careful with it. Come on.”

The pair walked out from their brief shelter, Cloud swinging the blade experimentally as Zack followed behind. It really did feel good to have a sword in his hand again, he mused. It may not have been First Tsurugi, but he could appreciate any finely crafted sword, especially one that Zack valued.

“It’s snowing,” Zack said with a wistful smile as he looked up, a few snowflakes burying themselves in his hair.

“Then we need to get that wood,” Cloud said, quickening his pace. “We don’t want to get snowed in.”

Cloud passed the first tree he had noticed, deeming it too large, in favour of a young pine that only reached a few feet over Zack’s head. Crouching down and with a single low swing, Cloud cut through the thick trunk at the base, leaving the tree to topple over into the snow. Standing the tree upright, he took the sword and sliced through the thin branches, stripping the ones bearing leaves and throwing the larger pieces for Zack to pick up.

“Use brings about wear, tear and rust,” Zack sighed as he took the sword back from Cloud.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Pulling his two belts off, Zack tied the larger branches to the trunk and they hoisted the tree between them, carrying it over their shoulders back to the cave.

They piled up the branches at the entrance of the cave, small twigs and easily burnt branches at the bottom, followed by the thick chunks of wood that Zack was quickly carving off the trunk.

“If I remember survival training, the wood’ll be too wet to burn properly,” Zack said as he turned a hunk of particularly sap-soaked wood over in his hands.

“The benefits of materia,” Cloud replied as he reached his hand towards the pile, a soft orange glow enveloping the branches moments before they caught fire, the damp wood sending thick plumes of black smoke into the air, surrounding the overhang before being caught by the breeze and sucked away into the open air.

“We need to get as much sleep as we can,” Zack said after a particularly wide yawn.

Cloud nodded, lying down on his side against the hard rock floor, his arms joining to form a pillow for his head. Zack lay down behind him, one arm wrapping around the smaller man and pulling him closer to his chest.

“We’ll finish walking tomorrow?” Zack murmured in askance against the blond hair.

“If we can go before sunrise, we should be able to get to the reactor about midday,” Cloud answered back, shifting himself to get more comfortable… a nearly impossible task when sleeping on rock and dirt.

“Good. Had enough of cold,” Zack muttered quietly, moments before he lay his head down against his arm and fell almost immediately asleep.

Cloud marvelled at the teenager’s ability to fall asleep instantly almost anywhere while he lay staring at the fire, waiting for sleep to come.


	8. JENOVA

**October 15 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

The night passed peacefully, Cloud waking every few hours to throw more wood when the fire would burn too low, or sucker punch the occasional monster that would wander curiously into the cave, drawn by the thick black smoke oozing from the mouth of the cave. Zack would continue soundly sleeping through the entire time, even when the scuffles drew close or Cloud returned to nestle back against the large teenager.

Zack did not even wake at dawn, requiring Cloud to prod him into alertness. “Mmmmf… no… sleep,” he said in a muffled groan, rolling over on to hard ground and covering his eyes with an arm.

“Get up,” Cloud grumbled, grabbing Zack by the shirt and hauling him to his feet.

“Wah! I’m up, I’m up!” Zack yelled, flailing his arms as he was lifted off the ground. “Oh, it’s morning already?” he asked once he had opened his eyes to the brilliant orange glow hinting at sunrise from beyond the confines of their shelter.

“Yes, and we need to get moving,” Cloud said, kicking dirt over the remains of their fire to smother the still smouldering embers. His expensive new shoes were going to be ruined.

“Right.” Zack nodded while blearily rubbing his eyes. With no equipment to gather, there was no reason to linger behind. The two set off into the blinding daylight, the morning sun reflecting off every ice covered surface to create a beautiful, though at times dangerously bright picture. Covering their eyes when the glare became too bad, they trekked back down the cliff face, rejoining the trail once they reached the bottom. “It’d almost be pretty if it wasn’t so damn cold.”

Cloud just shrugged as he walked alongside. It was all too familiar to him, both the scenery and the temperature, to be remarkable. “Imagine what it would be like if you didn’t have mako.”

Zack shivered, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing them with his hands in exaggerated reaction. “We’d be dead, wouldn’t we.”

“Frostbite if we were lucky…” Cloud looked down at the flimsy suit he was wearing, never intended to be worn out of an air conditioned office. “But I wouldn’t last a day in these clothes.”

The trail seemed to move faster for them than the day before, Mt. Nibel looming larger with each step and the mako reactor, previously hidden between two arms of the great mountain, was beginning to rise above the level of the snow. The trees had cleared out long before they approached the reactor, the scarce signs of animals being replaced by frequent encounters with monsters, each one tougher and more deformed than the last. By midday, as predicted, they had reached the main path between Nibelheim and the reactor, the last leg of the journey that had taken Sephiroth into madness.

 

* * *

 

“Finally.” Zack bent down to rest his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. They had covered over two half-days what would usually be a week long journey through the mountains, jumping over ravines and falling down cliffs that would have taken normal humans hours or even days to navigate.

“There’s no signal out here,” Cloud said, having pulled out his phone only to discover the annoying absence of signal bars. “We’ll have to call transport once we’re in the town.”

“So we need to check out the reactor?” Zack asked, starting towards the towering metal structure.

“Yeah,” Cloud replied, staring blankly at the entrance to the place that changed his life. So many horrible things had taken place inside that symbol of Shinra’s greed, so many things that would change the world. Sephiroth’s discovery of his past, his fall into insanity and his betrayal of his friends, badly injuring Zack and Cloud and leaving them to the experimental whims of Hojo.

He followed Zack after shaking his head clear of the memories, entering the security combination for them and walking through the familiar door into the perverse corrosive smell of purified mako. The first room was a minor control room, a monitoring station that would allow a glance at the status of the reactor to the maintenance teams that would be dispatched.

“Why do they keep the reactors unmanned?” Zack mused as he wandered past the rows of controls.

“My guess? Secrets and stupidity in equal parts.” Cloud played with the controls, unsealing the doors that would allow them access deeper into the reactor, ignoring as Zack gaped open-mouthed at him. The boy would find out sooner or later about the misdeeds of Shinra, he would not lie to keep that naive worldview alive.

The heavy steel security door shuddered open, revealing a long walkway attached to the top of a thick pipe that travelled along the deep expanse, the faint glow of mako rising up from the misty depths. Cloud strode along the walkway, Zack following somewhat more gingerly behind, peering nervously down the cavern as they walked along.

“Scared of heights?” Cloud asked after checking for the teen over his shoulder, finding he had stopped halfway along.

“No… no. But… that’s mako down there?” Zack asked, leaning over the railing for a better look at the swirling energy below.

“The reactor has to pull it up from deep inside the planet. Mt Nibel’s pretty rich in mako, but it’s still hard to bring it up to the surface.” Cloud pulled the SOLDIER away from the walkway, leading him through the door to where the real secrets lay.

“What is this place?” Zack asked as he stared up at the tiered layers of egg-shaped pods, each steel-grey container hooked up with an interconnected series of tubes. Flanked either side by pods, the centre of the room was dominated by wide stairs leading three tiers up to a sealed door, the letters “JENOVA” emblazoned upon the arch above.

“One of Shinra’s dirty secrets,” Cloud said, moving to the first of the pods. He pulled himself up to the round porthole until he could see inside, to confirm that it was the same horribly mutated monster he had seen before, grey skinned with spines and ridges deforming the feral face.

It was not.

He dropped back down with renewed urgency and frantically started pulling the tubes out of the pod, steam hissing from the seals and streams of blue fluid pooling onto the floor. He ripped the door open and in a burst of steam and splash of mako a naked man fell into Cloud’s arms.

“Who is he?” Zack gasped, running over to help Cloud lower the man to the floor. He looked so sickly as to barely pass as human, bald with all the hair removed from his body, featureless except the number 8 tattooed on his forearm.

“I don’t know,” Cloud answered truthfully, turning the man over to inspect him. He was definitely human, though his nails were slightly elongated, his fingers pointier than usual and his skin had a sickly grey pallor with a rough texture to it, like all the moisture had been sucked dry despite being suspended in fluid for so long. Placing two fingers on the man’s neck, he deftly sought out the carotid artery, trying to find any hint of a pulse. “He’s dead,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “Check the other pods, there might still be people inside.”

They both got to work in a mad rush, checking each porthole in turn for human occupants and draining the tanks of those they found. They opened the tanks one by one, releasing all the humans they could find from their imprisonment. They were all dead, unmoving when they dragged them out, unresponsive when checked for signs of life. The animals were next, poor creatures with fur seared away by mako, just as dead when they were released. That only left the monsters, the deformed creatures Cloud remembered from his nightmares, the only ones left alive in the pods. Floating in the mako, forever screaming, spikes of bone jutting from their skin, their hideously elongated teeth making it impossible for their jaws to close. One by one they released them from their pods, only for them to die gasping in the open air.

“What happened to them, Cloud?” Zack asked, trembling over the pile of corpses they had gathered at the foot of the stairs. Cloud put a hand over his shoulder, pulling the boy into a tight hug. He knew first hand how distressing seeing this for the first time was.

“They were all human, or animals, once,” Cloud explained as Zack pulled away from the hug, though he left a soothing hand on the SOLDIERs back. “The ones that weren’t able to handle the experiments… well, they were lucky to die. The ones that could survive… well.”

“Shinra turned them… into monsters?” Crouching down to one of the bodies, Zack ran a hand over the greying skin of one of the victims, tiny scales flaking off under his fingers.

“You ain’t a monster because someone shoved a needle into ya,” Cloud said, quoting a far wiser man than him. Placing a steady hand on Zack’s shoulder, Cloud pulled the teenager away from the bodies. Thinking about monsters was a dangerous path to go down for a SOLDIER. “It’s what you do that makes you a monster. The people who did this are monsters, these are just… their victims.”

Zack nodded, wiping away the slight dampness that had been forming in his eyes. “What do we do with them?”

“We can’t bury them, they’ll get dug up.” He looked out the door, to the walkway and the mako below. “We’ll send them back to the lifestream.”

“Lifestream?” Zack asked.

“Whenever someone dies, they return to the lifestream,” Cloud explained. “It flows around the whole planet, giving life to the world and everything in it. Shinra calls it mako when it is sucked from the planet.”

“You actually believe that stuff?” Zack looked incredulously at Cloud, his jaw dropping slightly.

Cloud sighed. “You’d believe it too if you saw what I did.”

“You’re laying way too much on me, Cloud.” Zack exhaled, nervously sweeping his bangs back. “I’ve got to have some time to take it all in.”

“I’ll help you freak out when we get back,” Cloud said, patting his friend on the back. “Until then, we have work to do.”

They continued their grim task, one by one dragging each body out, animal, human or mutant and solemnly casting them over the railing into the waiting mako below. It did not take long before the platform was cleared, the remains of Hojo’s victims sent back to the planet. That left just one last door: the one labelled “JENOVA”.

Taking each step one at a time, Cloud swallowed his trepidation as he approached the door. The first time they had entered the reactor, the door was sealed shut, only being opened by Sephiroth’s plea to his “mother”. Pressing his hand against the door, he shoved it hard. The door swung open, encountering no resistance at all until it slammed loudly against the opposite wall. Zack started next to him.

The seal had been broken. Jenova’s prison was empty.

Cloud rushed into the room, tearing open the remaining strange containers and tubes in a frantic attempt to find any clue as to where the specimen had been taken.

Zack peered through the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Jenova is the big dirty secret behind the reactor,” Cloud explained. “And she’s missing.”

With a yell, Cloud grabbed one of the thicker mako pipes and ripped it from the wall, steam and splashes of green fluid spraying out of the wounded pipe. It was one of the tubes that would ‘feed’ Jenova, now lying useless on the metal grating that passed for a floor. His rage was impotent, even his destruction would have no effect. Jenova was gone.

“She?” Zack asked, taking a tentative step into the room. “They were keeping another woman in here?”

“Not a woman, a virus… it’s hard to explain.” Cloud kicked one of the empty containers off to the side, reluctantly admitting to himself he would find no clues here. “The Jenova Project is something you don’t want to have anything to do with.”

“You brought me into it,” Zack said, standing behind Cloud to peer over his shoulder.

“I guess I did.” Cloud sighed, pressing past Zack and leaving the empty room behind him. “But some things you just don’t want to know.”

That admission earned an annoyed grumble from Zack though he did not bring it up. “What do we do now?” he asked, following Cloud down the stairs.

“There’s an old mansion in town, that’s where the project began,” Cloud said as they traversed the walkway back to the entrance. “I’ll call for transport from there.”

“Right.” Zack nodded, needing no further questions until Cloud led him further down into the reactor, skipping the entrance room entirely. “Aren’t we going outside?” he asked.

“There is a sewer system that leads between the reactor and the mansion.” They went deeper into the reactor as Cloud talked, the stench of rot and mako becoming stronger with each step. “Just be careful, it’s likely to be infested with Sahagin.”

“Sahagin… lizard fish thingies right, with spears?”

They reached the elevator that would take them down to the sewers, an old style mostly mechanical car with twin metal link doors.

“Yes,” Cloud said as he slid the doors open, the metal links folding back into the walls. “More of a nuisance than a threat.” He folded the doors back once they had entered, beginning their slow descent into the deep underground of the sewers.

“I thought Nibelheim was a small town, why build such massive sewers?”

“I guess to move in between the reactor and the mansion without being seen.”

Looking around at their surroundings, his guess would certainly seem logical. The moss covered stone walls surrounded a fairly clean path leading over a large reservoir, filled more with snow melt rather than any actual sewerage. He had never seen the sewers before, only knowing of their existence thanks to Vincent, who had used the sewers to avoid the heavily guarded path to the mansion.

The walkways twisted and turned, with abundant dead ends and other obstacles that seemed to serve no purpose but to confuse anyone trying to navigate it. The Sahagin were likewise a similar nuisance, inexplicable apart from their proximity to the water of the sewers, it was hard to tell if they were an experiment released into the surroundings without a care of the consequences or if they had been deliberately brought in to guard the path from any unwelcome intruders.

“Oh yeah!” Zack shouted gleefully as he theatrically kicked another Sahagin in the chest, sending it flying off the walkway and into the canals below. “Monster hunting.” He turned to Cloud with a grin, who was calmly roasting one of the lizard’s faces with his materia. “This is more like it.”

“Don’t get too carried away,” Cloud chided lightly, throwing his own defeated opponent from the walkway with a powerful blast of magic. “We need to get to the other end, that’s all.

“Angeal never lets me hunt monsters,” Zack complained, ducking a wayward swing from a trident and riposting with a two-handed stab, eviscerating the guilty Sahagin. “It’s always training, training, training.”

“Maybe he’s trying to protect you.” Cloud shrugged, seeing the last Sahagin falling into the water. Stretching his hand down towards the water, he sent a powerful lightning bolt into the depths below, electrifying the canal to make sure none of the monsters were still alive before they continued on their journey.

“Well, I don’t need to be protected,” Zack said, falling into line behind Cloud. “So don’t you start getting any ideas.”

“Ideas? I haven’t-”

“You have,” Zack said, cutting his protest off. “Trying to keep things from me. Not as bad as Angeal, but you have.”

“I’ve told you more than anyone else. I can’t tell you absolutely everything.”

“I guess.” Zack shrugged, slinging his sword back over his shoulder once no more enemies presented themselves. “Sorry, I’m just sick of people treating me like a child.”

“You’re sixteen. Everyone in SOLDIER is a child. The oldest member is… what, early twenties?”

Zack didn’t reply, continuing to walk alongside Cloud as they wound their way through the sewers. Eventually they came to modern looking rooms, looking more like an office space than the steampunk iron-and-gears utilitarian features of the reactor.

“We’re at the mansion, I guess?” Zack asked, Cloud shrugging in response as he looked for an exit. A few minutes of exploring and they found a similar elevator to the one in the reactor at the end of a sparsely furnished corridor. Riding the elevator up, they passed several floors of the same barren office space until the elevator reached its top, opening up deep inside the mansion’s library, rows and rows of dusty bookshelves filling their sight.

Wandering through the rows of books, Cloud wondered how the library looked so different from the first time he had seen it. The room was much larger, more bookshelves and long wooden reading tables. Perhaps Hojo had carefully manufactured what he wanted Sephiroth to see, removing the parts of the library that held information that would have calmed his rage. Walking further on, he found the table he remembered, where Sephiroth had piled books full of half-truths and lies. It was not surrounded by bookshelves as it had been (would be?) but he could see the large grooves in the floor, tracks leading to the shelves on either side. Pulling on one of the shelves, he found it slid smoothly into place, creating a false wall that would hide the true extent of the library.

“That’s weird,” Zack said as Cloud pushed the shelf back into place. “Why do they move like that?”

“Maybe to hide the elevator,” Cloud said. Well, hiding the elevator was just as likely as Hojo manipulating the information that Sephiroth could find.

Ignoring the library for the moment, Cloud led his companion out to the rocky cave-like corridor that served as an entrance to the labs, past the hallway door and to the stairs leading up into the mansion itself. “The mansion itself is up there,” he said, indicating the treacherous spiral staircase bolted to the side of the large circular room. “Clear it out to make sure there’s nothing running around. We may need to sleep here tonight.”

“Think there’ll be some food around?” Zack asked, accompanied by a loud rumbling from his stomach.

Cloud’s own grumbled in sympathy — perhaps they should have caught some game last night. “See if you can find any, I’ll get you to go to the village if you can’t.”

“Ok!” Zack nodded enthusiastically. “What’ll you be doing?”

“I’ll stay down here and try to get a phone line,” Cloud replied, keeping himself between the door and his friend. “Just keep your sword out, you can count on there being a fight.”

“Got it!” Zack grinned, drawing the sword from his back and rushing upstairs. Cloud waited until the teenager was out of sight before slamming his fist into the lock, shattering the jamb and swinging open the heavy door.


	9. Cooking the Books

**October 15 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Vincent’s room was largely as he remembered it, many coffins lining the walls with a few laid out on the floor, covered in dust and cobwebs from being undisturbed for so many years. He walked over to one of the central coffins, indistinguishable from all the others. Not having bothered to find the keys — the idea of a coffin having a lock was one he didn’t want to think about too much — he took hold of the lid and ripped it off, breaking and splintering the wood around the lock until the whole thing snapped off and fell to the floor. So much for Yuffie’s insistence that learning lock picking would be a useful skill. Pushing the lid to the side, he was greeted by the red eyes of the coffin’s occupant staring back at him.

“Hello, Vincent,” Cloud said as the red-caped man sat up in the coffin, his golden-clawed gauntlet gripping the side to pull himself up.

“Cloud.”

Cloud’s train of thought found itself going in reverse. “Bu… wha… you’re _here_?”

“Yes.”

“I would be pissed off if I wasn’t so happy to see you,” Cloud said, pulling Vincent into an uncharacteristic hug. “Why did you come?”

“I… owe you more than I can express, Cloud. I could not leave you to face this alone.”

Cloud was genuinely touched by the rare admission from his taciturn friend. And having Vincent here made things… perhaps not easier, but he didn’t have to take the burden alone. For all he could be a loner, Cloud knew how much strength he drew from his friends.

“I’m here with Zack, so you’ll have to get away without being seen,” Cloud said. Vincent merely nodded his assent. “Here, I got you this.”

He could see the small twitch upward in the corner of Vincent’s mouth as he pulled out the phone and handed it to him. They were both terrible with the devices and had both been on the receiving end of lectures about picking up when someone called.

They both stopped at the sound of footsteps creaking on the floorboards upstairs. “I will head to Midgar,” Vincent said, slipping the phone into a pocket. “I will contact you when I can.” He slipped out the door and in a flash of red, was gone. Remembering his little lie to Zack, Cloud pulled his own cell phone out, checking the screen to see if there was enough signal to phone in a transport.

Cloud sighed, shoving the phone back into his pocket. As expected, the signal underground was less than impressive. Following Zack’s path up the hidden spiral staircase, Cloud entered the bedroom on the top floor, noting that Zack had figured out the hidden door in an impressively short amount of time. The bedroom was much as he remembered it from when he stayed here as a trooper, standing by the bed and watching the hidden door, but too terrified to go down and confront his commanding officer. Climbing up to the window, he sat on the windowsill, bringing his phone out to dial Reno.

_Cloud!_ The phone picked up almost immediately to the redhead’s relieved voice. _I heard that your plane went down. What happened?_

“Zack and I got out when it was hit,” Cloud said, looking out the window to see if he could peer over the town. “Did the pilot come back?”

_Fair’s OK? Phew, Angeal’s been going crazy… damn, he nearly broke down Tseng’s door when he heard the news. We found the wreck just south of Rocket Town, it wasn’t pretty._

“We made it to Nibelheim on foot, but we’re gonna need some transport out.” He climbed back down from the window, having found it offered him no view of the town at all, instead sitting on the bed beside it. “From the reactor, not from the town.”

_I’ll pick you up myself. I’m in Rocket Town, I have to refuel but I could be there in six hours._

“Thanks, Reno. I’d better get going.” Cloud closed the phone, shoving it back in his pocket as he rushed out of the room and into the foyer. “Zack!” he yelled, looking around for where his friend had got to.

“Over here!” Zack replied, peering around the door to the kitchen. Despite the horribly coloured blood splatters covering his hair and face, he was wearing a huge grin. “Couldn’t find any food in the kitchen, sorry.”

“Reno’s gonna be here in six hours, we need to get a move on,” Cloud explained as Zack jogged over.

“Aw, ok.” He patted Cloud on the shoulder as the two joined together again, back down the steep spiral staircase into the underground. Grinning sheepishly, he pulled his phone from his pocket once it started beeping at him. “Sorry, Kunsel’s been texting me non-stop. What do we need to do here?”

“We need to carry as many relevant books as we can back to the reactor,” Cloud said as they entered the library. “Then we destroy the rest.”

“Destroy them?” Zack asked, picking up a book and examining its cover. “Why?”

“To make sure no one tries to repeat the experiments again.” Cloud took the book from Zack’s hands, throwing it on to the table. “See if you can find anything around to help us carry the books. I’ll start making piles.”

Zack nodded and Cloud began his work of selecting the books to take with him. It would not be easy to decide which ones to take with him and which ones to destroy in only four hours, given the two hours they would need to get to the reactor on time. But it was better that he lose some important information than to have it fall into the wrong hands, especially the dangerous misinformation that had some of the scientists convinced that Jenova was indeed one of the Cetra.

Most of the books were easy to pick between, mass printings of scientific literature, encyclopaedias, various standard textbooks and references. These he just left on the shelves, not caring if they were left behind or destroyed if the fire spread. Anything that was written by Hojo, he threw into the pile to be burned, not trusting that anything the madman had left behind to be helpful or accurate. Much of the work by other scientists on the Jenova Project was also thrown on the pile, after a brief check to make sure there was nothing of value to be gained from the tomes.

Zack had come back with several standard infantry backpacks from the locker rooms of the guards once stationed here, explaining that they could carry one on their backs and two in each hand, and they could be loaded heavily with books without breaking. Cloud started stuffing the backpacks with books, either of Professor Gast’s work, or of Lucrecia’s research into Omega, getting Zack to help him by discarding commercially available books and bringing anything original to Cloud so he could decide its fate.

Eventually the packs were full, research notes and books packed in until the canvas creaked under the strain. Satisfied with the result, they dragged the packs to the elevator, piling the rest of the books at the end of the room.

“This won’t make the town catch fire, will it?” Zack asked as he rolled a fire materia in his fingers.

“This place is entirely underground. It won’t catch past the stairwell.” Before he set the books alight, Cloud walked up to the door he had been dreading. It wasn’t the library he feared, but the cramped room off to the side, where Hojo conducted his… practical experiments, the place that Cloud and Zack had been imprisoned for five long years, a place he would rather not have this young Zack see the inside of. Clenching his fist, he opened the door and in an instant raised his hand, sending a small orange bolt of fire inside. He slammed the heavy door shut just before the explosion sounded, the wood on the door splintering and the metal bracing buckling, though the door stood up to the force.

“What was that for?” Zack recovered from his shock of the large bang, tilting his head in curiosity.

“That was for… human experiments,” Cloud explained. Zack seemed to visibly pale with each word. “There’s nothing worth preserving there.”

“Oh… ok,” Zack said, swallowing around a lump in his throat.

“Let’s get going.” Cloud picked up one of the heavy backpacks, strapping it securely to his back, Zack following suit with his own pack.

“The elevator’s down,” Zack said, peering down the empty shaft and hitting the button to call the cab. “Must automatically drop to the bottom.”

Cloud just nodded, not wanting to contradict him. They dragged the packs into the cab, Cloud taking one final look around the library before throwing a smaller bolt of energy at the books, the dry paper catching fire immediately. Zack reached over and closed the doors, hitting the button down. Just before the floor rolled up above their heads, they could see the flames quickly spreading along the pile, the column of fire extending high enough to lick at the ceiling.

“I’m kinda glad I can’t tell anyone about this,” Zack said once they could no longer hear the crackle of flames.

Cloud turned to look at him. “Why’s that?”

Zack shrugged. “I don’t know where I’d even start to explain.”

“I can relate to that.” Cloud chuckled softly and half-heartedly.

The cab stopped at the bottom floor with a judder, bringing them to the smell of unrestrained mould and stagnant water. Picking up their packs, they trod down the walkway, tracing back the steps they had taken a few hours before. The path was mostly clear of the Sahagin, the ones they had killed on their journey to the mansion either serving as a warning to the others, or they did not have the numbers from Cloud and Zack’s enthusiastic culling.

“I never thought books could be so heavy,” Zack complained as he dragged his burden through the canals, adjusting his grip on the straps every time they were able to pause for a moment. His superhuman strength was still struggling to cope with the vast weight of the books as they were carried.

“They’re heavier than you’d think,” Cloud replied, though he was coping better than Zack was during the journey. He also had the added advantage of not having to drop the bags to kill a stray Sahagin, merely pointing his arm at the lizard-folk to incinerate them before they got close.

Neither the weight of the books nor the resistance on the way back was enough to slow them down, arriving at the elevator on the other end of the sewer nearly an hour earlier than Cloud had planned. They took a short break after loading their cargo on the elevator, to allow Zack to at least catch his breath.

“I swear, when we get back the first thing I do will be to eat an entire cow,” Zack moaned, leaning back against the elevator wall as the cab rumbled upwards.

“Make that two.” Cloud slumped to the floor beside him. Neither had eaten a decent meal in the nearly two days that they had been out in the Nibelheim area, whatever rations they could have hoped for gone up in flames with their transport.

“Should’ve gone into town for food,” Zack said, picking up the packs once the elevator had ground to a halt.

“Too risky,” Cloud replied as he opened the doors and hauled his own baggage into the air. “When we get back, we’re going to the fanciest restaurant in Midgar… or at least, the fanciest one that serves giant steaks.”

“You promise?” Zack asked with a grin as they left the elevator.

“Sure, I’ll even pay for it.” Cloud smiled back. “I think we’ll have to take a shower first, though.”

“Deal!” Zack laughed, dragging the backpacks up the winding stairways. An arduous journey of half dragging, half carrying the canvas packs up the steep stairs later, they were able to drop their luggage in the entrance, even Cloud sighing with relief as he unclipped the pack on his back and let it fall from his shoulders.

“I see what you mean about the weight,” Cloud groaned as he slumped against the closest control panel. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were several hundred kilos of books that they’d been lugging all this way. Zack just glared at him, unclipping his own backpack and letting himself drop to the floor in exhaustion.

“No more stairs ever.”

Cloud smirked, pushing one of the packs on to its side. “Maybe we can get Reno to load them.”

“When’s he supposed to arrive?” Zack asked, sitting up and shimmying himself back against the wall.

Cloud shrugged, opening his phone to check the time. “In an hour, but I guess it could be any time.” He sighed. “We should get these to the helipad.”

Zack groaned, reluctantly getting to his feet and strapping his backpack on once again. Neither of them bothered to pick up the packs, instead dragging them the short distance outside the reactor.

“Well, he’s not here yet,” Zack said as they left the warm reactor and entered the icy embrace of Mt. Nibel, finding the helipad annoyingly empty.

“Let’s just get these books over there.” Cloud dragged his own sacks ahead, pulling them up the metal stairs and dumping them at the edge of the helipad. Zack grudgingly followed, slowly dragging the packs up the metal mesh walkways until he too dumped them next to the already impressive pile.

“Next time we bring some grunts along to carry the loot, yeah?” Pulling himself up into a cross-legged position, Zack resting his back against the pile of books.

“Hey, I was a grunt once,” Cloud grumbled, lying down next to his companion.

“Fine, fine. We’ll bring a car.”

Cloud chuckled. “No complaints here.”

They sat there in the cold, waiting for the helicopter to arrive as they talked, Cloud trying to reassure Zack about the events of the past two days, about the world changing experiences he had seen. The experiments that Shinra had covered up, the victims not even left to rot, suspended in their preserving fluid until they were no longer useful. For most of his life, Zack had believed Shinra to be the good guys, fuelled by their pervasive influence and pernicious propaganda, every stream of information to him doled out drop by drop from the tap of Shinra, Inc.

“You intend to destroy Shinra?” Zack asked once Cloud had finished his explanations.

“I hope I don’t have to,” Cloud replied, still unsure as to how much he should be telling Zack. Thinking and thinking on it had not provided him with a clear choice, each time he would reach a decision, he would come up with ten more reasons to go the other way. “I just wish there was a way of doing something without anyone else getting hurt.”

“But you’ve stopped the experiments.” Zack got to his feet, beginning to pace around the edge of the helipad. “I mean, you’re doing something, right?”

“Something, yes. But it won’t be enough.” Cloud looked up, seeing that Zack had stopped to look at something in the distance, he followed his gaze to see the small profile of a helicopter appearing around the mountain. “We shouldn’t talk about this near Reno.”

“The Turk?” Zack asked. “Yeah, I guess that’d be a bad idea.”

They could soon hear the echoing drone of the powerful rotors reverberating through the twisting valleys, the faint profile soon turning into a distinct helicopter, glowing brightly in the fading sunlight, red Shinra diamond emblazoned on the door.

“You know Reno?” Cloud asked, shifting his focus from the approaching helicopter to his fellow warrior.

Zack shook his head, rolling his shoulders as he paced. “Never met him. Just know he’s one of the Turks. You do, though?”

“He’s supposed to be my temporary assistant,” Cloud said. “Or hindrance, whatever the correct title is.”

“He’s getting in your way?” Zack asked, stopping his pacing and look back at him curiously.

“Not intentionally, he’s just…” Cloud shrugged. “He’s got your attention span.”

“Hey! I’m great at my job!” Zack protested, pouting back.

“I’m sure he’s fine at… Turking.” He wasn’t quite successful in finding a verb. “How good do you think you’d be at filing budgets?”

“Ok, point taken.” Zack laughed, his final words almost drowned out by the sound of the helicopter approaching for landing. The craft swung around them, circling the pad before it drained off enough momentum to drop down on the concrete.

Fighting against the downwash, Cloud opened the door to the rear of the helicopter, letting Zack throw two of the backpacks into the cargo hold. They both hurried back, each hauling the packs two at a time into the storage space until they had ferried them all. Closing and securing each side of the door, they walked around each side and boarded the helicopter.

“Yo Cloud! Man, you guys look like shit!” Reno yelled over the roar of the rotors as soon as they had closed the doors and fitted their headsets. They took off immediately, banking to the side heavily to get clear of the mountain.

“Thanks, Reno,” Cloud muttered. “Where are we going?” he asked as they clicked their seat belts — rather than the previously annoying safety harnesses — in place.

“Rocket town,” Reno said. “It’s got an airstrip there; we’ll get a plane back to Midgar when we land.”

Cloud nodded, despite Reno not being able to see him. Sitting back in his chair, he looked out the window at the shrinking Nibelheim reactor, sparkling in the remaining daylight as part of the always breath-taking sight of the sun sinking over Mt. Nibel.

“How long will it take us to get to Midgar?” Zack asked over the headset. “I’m starving.”

“It’ll be overnight, just pick up some grub in Rocket Town,” Reno replied. “So what shot you down?”

“A dragon,” Cloud said quickly, before Zack could join in. “Decided it liked the look of the plane.”

“Damn.” Reno whistled as he tilted the helicopter forward, into a slow dive as they left the mountains and entered the plains stretching towards Rocket Town. “So you jumped out?”

“Someone had to kill the dragon.” Zack nudged Cloud, giving him a wink. “I jumped out to kill it, Cloud here decided to take his chances with the mountain rather than the plane.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a lucky landing,” Reno said. “Still, good call… that plane was a wreck.”

Cloud nodded along as he looked out the window, at the faint outline of a town that was growing in the distance. It looked smaller than he remembered, but it was obvious even from here that the eponymous rocket was still being built, so the only buildings around would be related to that project. Tethered near the launch pad was the great airship Highwind, bustling with activity as the workers unloaded the cargo it carried. Still closer, he could see that there were only a few permanent buildings around the site, not yet the houses and hotels that would be built once it became a tourist destination, but a great number of tents and prefabs housing temporary workers.

The one thing that was absolutely the same was Cid’s house, a long and empty airstrip running out from the edge of his yard. Of course he would have built the house as soon as the project started, to stay day and night to look over his dream of being the first person into space.

The helicopter came in low, rattling the house and flapping the tents with its powerful downwash. They circled briefly around the rocket, dropping speed before they went into a tight turn to drop the aircraft right onto the grass.

“Showing off, Reno?” Cloud muttered as the queasy feeling returned into his stomach from the sharp turns. “If I throw up in here you’re cleaning it up.”

“Aw, man,” Reno said in a sad whine, turning around in his seat once he had killed the engine. “You get airsick? Shit, I’m sorry. Please don’t tell Tseng.”

Cloud just mumbled in reply, throwing his safety belt off and jumping from the helicopter, eager to get solid ground under his feet as quickly as possible. He stood there as the rotors slowly wound down to a stop, hands on knees while waiting for the wave of nausea to pass. His motion sickness had improved considerably since his teenage years, though it was cured completely when he was under the delusion of being a cocky and arrogant SOLDIER First. It had returned somewhat with the regaining of his memories, but it had gone away for the most part, unless he was violently rocked around in a vehicle he couldn’t control.

“Your pilot’s a guy named Cid.” Reno pointed towards the large house they had landed near, looming its dark silhouette against the pale glow of twilight. “The stuff you chucked in the back, does that need to go with you?”

Cloud nodded, walking around the back of the helicopter to check on the dangerous cargo. “It’s… well, classified,” he called back once he had made sure it was secure, with no stray books falling out. “No one can see what’s inside.”

“Gotcha.” Reno nodded to Cloud before leaning back into the cockpit. “I’ll get it shifted to your plane, don’t worry.”

They thanked Reno for the ride, though the redhead just brushed it off with a short joke. Trusting the books to Reno’s hands, Cloud led Zack down the short path to the house of Cid Highwind.


	10. Scars of Friendship

**October 16 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“It looks like the professor survived the crash,” Sephiroth said as he returned the phone to its receiver, turning back to face the guest in his office. Angeal had been a frequent visitor ever since news had reached them of Genesis’ departure, an encounter that allowed both reserved men an outlet for their frustrations, even if it took the repressed form of discussing the strategic implications of Genesis defecting, or the implications of a Shinra cover-up over their friends’ whereabouts.

“And Zack?” Angeal asked, only barely able to refrain from wringing his hands in anticipation.

“Your student survived as well,” Sephiroth said, crooking the faintest of smiles as the visible wave of relief washed over his friend, pushing out the anxiety that had been cramping him for the past day.

“I swear I am going to kill him when he gets back.” Having loosened up enough to sit down in one of the guest chairs, Angeal did so, resting the Buster Sword against the wall and allowing himself to enjoy the comfort without worry.

“You would kill Fair?” Sephiroth raised one thin eyebrow as he asked. “Would that not defeat the purpose… or do you mean Strife?”

“Whatever you want to call Hojo Version Two,” Angeal said with a huff, glancing over to his resting sword, as if he was considering picking it up and killing the scientist from there. “Who does he think he is, taking my student? Going over my head to Lazard and then nearly getting him killed?”

“From what I understand, he merely asked for an escort and Fair was offered,” Sephiroth replied. “I highly doubt that Strife knew who he was, let alone that he was your student.”

“I’d rather have someone to blame.” Angeal shrugged off Sephiroth’s explanation, only getting a faint chuckle in response. “You’re on a first name basis with the professor now?”

“Strife is his last name.”

“Oh.”

Sephiroth blinked slowly. “You thought his name was Strife Cloud?”

Angeal shrugged. “To be honest it could have gone either way. Do you know why the plane crashed?”

“A dragon… apparently,” Sephiroth added after a moment, the word spoken in such a way to plainly advertise his scepticism. “Common in the Nibel Mountains, but it seems very unusual for it to attack a transport.”

“It seems fishy to me. I don’t trust him.”

“It certainly does,” Sephiroth said with a sharp nod. “But I would hardly accuse the professor of nefariously trying to get himself killed.”

Angeal rested his chin in his hand, elbow leaning on the arm rest of his chair as he paused for a moment before speaking. “You like him.”

Sephiroth blinked. “Like?” he said, rolling the word over in his mouth as if getting a taste for it. Did he like the new head of the Science Department? As a replacement for Hojo, certainly, although there was the nagging feeling he had ever since his meeting with Strife. Hojo was the devil he knew, the man whose motivations, however foul, were ones he understood and could make plans for. Strife was a mystery wrapped in an enigma, it seemed that the more he found out about the man the less he knew. “I have only met him once… I admit, I can relate to him better than Hojo, but that is not difficult.”

Angeal hmm’ed in response, keeping his ‘thinking man’ pose as he kept his gaze firmly fixed on Sephiroth’s face, watching closely for any minute change in expression. “Something tells me it’s more than that. You’ve been tight lipped about it, but I know you’ve been looking into him.”

“There is a… troubling inconsistency about him.” Not to mention the troubling familiarity he could not explain, that put Sephiroth off balance as soon as he met the man. “There are many pieces to his puzzle, but none of them fit together very well.”

“Pieces?”

“Even though he tries to hide it, his eyes have the glow of mako. His distaste for Hojo was quite evident… though that should not come as a surprise,” Sephiroth said, his usual layer of restraint between his thoughts and words breaking down, each of his musings being immediately vocalised to his companion. “It does make me wonder, he is older than us, so perhaps he was a precursor to SOLDIER?”

Angeal looked up, a puzzled expression plastered all over his features. “A soldier scientist?”

“Well, no,” Sephiroth said, shaking his head. “He’s… tiny. You could mistake him for a teenager if not for the way he carries himself. Hojo would not have picked him for a warrior.”

“Physical power isn’t the only thing mako can enhance,” Angeal said, the gears turning over in his head as he considered Shinra’s newest executive in a new light. “It enhances your manual dexterity, your ability with materia, your eyesight… maybe even things we don’t know of.”

Sephiroth nodded to each point made. “So perhaps SOLDIER had an entirely different objective in the beginning?”

“Creating a super-scientist?” Angeal chuckled at the thought. “It does sound like something Hojo would do… though if it worked, wouldn’t he have given himself the treatment?”

“Perhaps it didn’t work,” Sephiroth replied thoughtfully, as each piece of the puzzle seemed to fit more into place. “That would certainly explain why he killed Hojo.”

Angeal’s eyebrows shot up. “So he did kill Hojo. Himself.”

“He was caught not minutes after,” Sephiroth said, his eyes flicking up to the clock on the wall. “The Second Classes should be gone by now; shall we take this to the training room?”

Angeal nodded, though he seemed reluctant. It was understandable. Training was one of the few ways they had to blow off steam, but it had been tainted forever by that fateful day barely a month ago. It had started with their standard spar, Angeal and Genesis against Sephiroth, when Genesis, ever hot-headed and eager to prove his prowess, had taken Sephiroth on alone. The duel quickly escalated as the redhead become more and more frustrated with his inability to lay a scratch on the smirking First, who was batting aside each of his attacks with infuriating ease. The battle reached a point where Angeal felt he had to intervene, blocking both of their attacks with his two swords. Genesis refused to relent, however, and shattered the broadsword with his own rapier, the largest shard slicing through his shoulder and drawing a vicious wound.

A mere cut to the shoulder, however deep, should not have fazed a First Class SOLDIER for long. Yet Genesis’ wound did not heal and his condition became progressively worse. Despite this, he concealed his injury from all that he could, eventually being sent to command the Wutai front, where he had recently disappeared along with numerous Second and Third class SOLDIERs. Since the news that Genesis had disappeared and the pang of guilt over his part in it, he had never been able to look at the training room in the same light again.

Standing from their respective chairs, they picked up their swords, Masamune from its decorative mount on the wall and the Buster Sword from where it had been leaning next to the door. One of the advantages of the small SOLDIER floor was that their offices were such a short distance from the training rooms and sneaking in for a quick spar or practice mission was only a handful of steps away.

Swords in hand, the pair circled each other as soon as they had stepped foot in the room. They had not bothered to activate the training room, whereas Genesis would always be insisting that they fought in the most spectacular and improbable of arenas, neither Sephiroth nor Angeal cared for the scenery, their attention only paid to the grace, the motion and the power of the fight.

Neither was willing to make the first move, continuing to pace in circles as they measured each other up. They knew each other well enough to pick up on the minor signs that would change the particular day’s combat. Angeal was wielding a standard issue broadsword, not willing to risk damaging his prized Buster Sword in a spar, though it was still on his shoulder, weighing him down. Sephiroth as always had Masamune in hand, though the materia slots were conspicuously empty — they would not be sapping his strength in exchange for magical power, making the swordsman more formidable than usual in physical combat.

The first strike came from Angeal, slicing from his right in a low chop to the legs that Sephiroth’s high, over the shoulder style had difficulty in blocking. But a block was not required, Sephiroth’s quick footwork taking him out of reach of the blade, responding with a quick downwards thrust towards the chest. Angeal deflected it just in time, spinning his body as he brought his blade back up, the grating sound of metal sliding against metal filling the room as Sephiroth’s thrust harmlessly fell off his blade. With the first awkward strikes taken, they fell into the familiar rhythm of the first stage of battle, tiring the opponent out.

“What do you think Strife is doing in Nibelheim?” Angeal asked as he followed through a powerful overhead chop that Sephiroth had no choice but to block. He had the advantage in this stage, being of a sturdier build than his slim companion he could out endure him — at least while the fighting was still friendly.

“It is his hometown, if his records are accurate,” Sephiroth replied, responding to the attack with three quick thrusts in rapid succession.

Angeal barely kept up with the quick strikes, deflecting one, dodging the other and being forced to accept a near miss on the last. “I thought his records said he was a fourteen-year-old trooper,” he said once he was not so sorely pressed.

“He joined the infantry so he could get close enough to Hojo,” Sephiroth said, backing off to allow Angeal some breathing room. He did not want to end the fight so early. “I think his records are mostly accurate, now.”

“Why the infantry?” Angeal re-joined the fight with a basic slash.

“It would be a good choice,” Sephiroth replied, blocking the move with ease. “Infantry get access to enough of the building and there would be less risk of Hojo recognising him under a helmet.”

“Something still seems off about it.” Another swipe, another parry.

“Indeed. However, Nibelheim holds the first reactor that Shinra ever built,” Sephiroth said, keeping on the defensive with broad, easy strokes blocking the powerful swipes of his opponent. “That may be more relevant than a visit to his hometown.”

“The first reactor,” Angeal mused, pulling back from his attacks for another short break. “I wonder what secrets it holds.”

“It would be of more interest to a scientist than to me.” A quick thrust teased at Angeal’s defences.

Angeal nodded, deflecting the thrust easily and following through with a swipe from the opposite side, aimed at Sephiroth’s midsection. Sephiroth quick-stepped back, too overextended to block the attack, sucking in his belly to avoid a nasty cut. Angeal did not relent, using Sephiroth’s off balance to his advantage, swinging in awkward strokes that required unconventional moves to bring the unwieldy Masamune to parry.

The problem with Angeal, Sephiroth mused, is that he knew his fighting style too well. While he outclassed the other SOLDIER in almost every area, Angeal would never forget a single move used against him and every training session there would be another parry or another attack that Sephiroth had to think on his feet to counter, his practiced moves never being enough to win against a man who knew all his weaknesses. It was the best training he could hope for.

“Enough,” Angeal called, after a few near misses had signalled they were in danger of injuring each other, or rather that Sephiroth was in danger of injuring him.

“It isn’t the same, is it?” Sephiroth lowered his sword, a deep frown etched on his face.

Angeal shook his head. “It won’t be the same, not until he’s back.”

“You are still sure he will come back.”

“He has to.” Angeal sheathed his own weapon, the smaller sword making a lopsided cross with the larger Buster Sword on his back. “He’s family. He’s just… scared, he’ll listen to reason.”

“I am not so sure,” Sephiroth replied, “that reason would cause him to change his mind.”

Angeal turned, looking curiously at his friend. “Why do you say that?”

Sephiroth’s face fell into a troubled look, his shoulders sinking at the thought. “Because I think reason would tell me to go with him. If he asked, I’m not sure I could say no.”


	11. Highwind

**October 16 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

The details of the house only became clear once they had approached further, a squat bungalow painted in an earthy brown and surrounded on all sides with a picket fence. The house was similar to the one from Cloud’s memories, though with cleaner paint and paler wood. The house even sported a much larger runway, with long wide tracks that only heavy cargo planes could make.

“You’re late!”

Cloud did not have a chance to knock before the door opened and the familiar, perpetually annoyed voice of Cid Highwind called out, the man standing in the doorway framed by the soft light of the living room.

“You must be the professor,” Cid said. “Come on, get yer arse inside.”

Cloud snorted, apparently it wasn’t just the failure of the rocket launch that caused Cid’s abrasive personality. “This is Zack Fair, SOLDIER Second Class,” he said.

“M’names Cid, I’m the chief engineer on the space program.”

 Cid ushered them both inside, seating them down in the spartanly decorated living room. “Take a seat,” he said as he headed for the kitchen. “Can I get ya some tea?”

“No, we just need some transport-” Cloud had begun to get out of the seat before being stopped by Cid’s harsh glare.

“No, you’re gonna sit your ass down and have some goddamn tea! Now, you want sandwiches?”

“Sandwiches would be good,” Zack said meekly.

Cloud raised his eyebrows. Cid had only been gone a few seconds before he returned from the kitchen holding a tray of tea and sandwiches. He stared Cloud down as he poured out the tea.

“So out of nowhere, I get a call from the goddamn President of Shinra hisself, telling me to bring _your_ dumbass self back to Midgar or he’d have _my_ head.”

Cloud frowned. “He’s that angry?”

“If the Pres is that angry, yer director’s gonna take a piece outta ya. What’d you do?”

“I am the director.”

“Huh.” Cid leaned back in his chair. “Science department, right? You’re the new director?”

“Yeah.”

“Hojo always was a pain in the arse… look, I’ll get ya back before the Pres blows his top. But can ya do me a favour?”

Cloud raised his eyebrows. “What sort of favour?”

“Well, it’s just that…” Cid verbally flailed about a bit. “Goddamn it! I want that numbskull Palmer outta here! I don’t know shit about you but even if your head looks like a chocobo’s arse, that’s still twice as smart as Palmer!”

The room fell into a stunned silence following the outburst, as Cid’s brain caught up with his mouth and realised what he had just said to Shinra’s newest executive. Zack just sat there, jaw slack and gaping at the two of them.

It took Cloud a few moments before he broke out in a wide grin. That was definitely the Cid he remembered.

“Sorry. I just need ya to back me with the board,” Cid said, his tone much softer now. He scratched at the back of his neck. “I’d be willing ta offer you-”

“The Highwind,” Cloud interrupted.

“My airship?” Cid looked up in shock, cigarette nearly falling from his mouth. “You want my baby?”

Cloud considered this for a moment. It had only been a stray thought when he blurted it out, from familiarity and if he was completely honest, a desire to work alongside the pilot again. Even then, Shinra’s leash would be tightening on him after this trip, and slightly more independent transport would be needed.

“I don’t want the ship,” Cloud said. “I just need some transport now and again.”

Cid scratched his chin. “Hm, letting you use the Highwind… think ya can get Palmer outta the way?”

_I could shove him out a window, I guess_. Palmer may have been one of the many frustrating imbeciles he’d had to deal with over the years, but he was… mostly harmless. He’d had the chance to kill the man before, though back then something had stayed his hand — something he had regretted when Palmer tried to kill him a second time.

“I can back you,” Cloud said after a short moment of contemplation. “But the President doesn’t trust me. I don’t know how far I can get.”

“Well, I’ll give ya run of the damn ship,” Cid said. He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. “But just you! I don’t want Science Department arseholes using my baby as a taxi left right and centre.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Cloud said. “For now, we just need to get back to Midgar.”

“We’re taking the Highwind, then?” Zack tried to hide his grin.

“Damn right we will!”

“We have some cargo…” Cloud started, before he was cut off with a dismissive wave of Cid’s hand.

“Round up some of those good for nothing mechanics and get them to haul it in.” Cid stood from his seat, collecting the scattered plates and cups and loading them back on the tray. “You two head for the ship, I’ll meet ya there.”

With that dismissal they left the house, thanking Cid for the much needed food. The sun’s light had disappeared by the time they stepped outside, the pale glow of twilight replaced with the deep blue of night, barely tinted by the sliver of moon peeking through the clouds. Reno’s helicopter was still where they had left it, several workers in beige Shinra uniforms already loading the books on to a cart.

“Seems like everyone wants to be your friend,” Zack said behind his cheeky grin once they had cleared the front lawn.

Cloud did not reply, staying instead deep in his own thoughts as they walked back to the helicopter. Was it sentimentality that was leading him towards old friends? Reno to a certain extent, Zack definitely and now Cid? He was dragging his friends into his fight just because he felt insecure without being able to rely on their support. They had followed him willingly before, but this was different… before, they knew the risks and if anything, Cloud had been dragged in as much as they were; now, Cloud knew the risks but was not telling them.

“Hey!” Zack called with a wave to the workers around the helicopter. “We’re taking that stuff to the Highwind, ‘kay?”

Cloud looked at his friend, one of those glances that makes you wonder if you’re seeing them for the first time. Silver moonlight highlighting the tips of his hair, bathing his face in a light that made him seem even paler, even younger than before. _I don’t need to be protected. So don’t you start getting any ideas._ The words had been rattling around his brain ever since Zack had spoken them. He hadn’t really considered that Zack, or any of his friends really, would resent him trying to protect them.

_You never lied to me, thinking you were protecting me. You never stopped me doing something I believed in because you thought I might get hurt. Why am I doing it to you, then?_

“Zack,” Cloud said quietly. He stood next to Zack, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. “I’m sorry. I dragged you into this without asking. You can back out now, if you want to.”

“Hey, we’re friends, right?”

_We’re friends, right?_

“Yeah,” Cloud said. He looked Zack in the eye and gave him a heartfelt smile, something he had done more in the last few days around Zack than he had in the previous month.

“Then I’m with you. You just gotta tell me what it is.”

“I will. Then… I guess it’s up to you if you want to help.”

They resumed walking, keeping the cart of books in sight at all times as they followed the workers to the airship. Zack seemed to have enough sense not to respond to Cloud’s promise with a joke or dismissal, instead just nodding and keeping quiet enough for the moody man to think.

The launch site was impressive, not just for the sight of the towering steel structure that held the rocket upright, nor the extensive scaffolding that surrounded both landmarks, but also for the industrious workers, still toiling long after sunset under moonlight and torchlight, riveting, welding and hammering away at their great achievement. The Highwind attached to it was just as busy, fuelling tanks being hooked up by winding tubes and airmen slowly releasing tethers as it was preparing for its impromptu journey.

They walked up the winding metal ramps of the launch site, carefully avoiding the scurrying mechanics that would rush past them. Their cartload of books was carefully attached to a crane as they looked on, hoisted up into the Highwind’s ample cargo space. One of the crew greeted them on the steps, ushering them up on to the familiar deck of the airship, the airmen cast the tethers and fuel pipes off the desk in preparation for launch.

“You’re brooding again,” Zack said once they had been shown their cabin. The SOLDIER dumped his standard issue broadsword on his bed once they entered.

Cloud gave a sullen pout as he picked up the abandoned weapon. “I’m allowed to,” he said, leaning the sword against the wall. “I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“Yeah?” Kicking off his boots and lying on the bed, Zack cast a look over at the other bed where Cloud was sitting down.

“Yeah,” Cloud simply repeated, as he glanced around the cabin. Thin metal walls and a barely covered floor, complete with a small porthole to act as a window. Two beds of standard military issue that you could find in any barracks, opposite which were two floor-to-ceiling lockers. Cloud knew from experience that all the cabins in the ship shared the same spartan design, the only exceptions being any of the rooms that his companions spent money decorating, or the executive cabin set aside for the president.

“Sure you don’t wanna talk?” Zack asked, bouncing slightly on the bed as he tested the springs. Another thing Cloud knew from experience, they were terrible.

“Not yet, not here,” Cloud said, lying down flat on the bed. A faint whine filled the cabin as the engines were started, slowly decreasing in pitch as the turbines picked up speed and engaged the propellers, until the entire cabin was bathed in a dull roar.

“Well, we can talk about something, right?” Zack asked, rolling over the bed to face Cloud. “You’re not worried someone will look at those books?”

“No,” Cloud replied. “They’re only really dangerous in the hands of a couple of people, and only if they have them all.”

“But someone could take them all.”

“No one on this ship would take them.” Cloud rolled over to face his companion, slapping his forehead with his palm. “I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

Zack grinned back. “Want me to check on them?”

“Yeah, you do that,” Cloud said, rolling back to his previous position. “I’m getting some sleep.”

Lying back on the bed with his hands resting behind his head, Cloud stared at the ceiling as his thoughts drifted off. The trip had at least been a partial success, once Vincent had reached Midgar he could persuade his old friend to conduct the missions he couldn’t without attracting the attention of Shinra. The books he had salvaged may be useful to finding out more about Gast’s work, but most importantly they would be out of the hands of…

Cloud sat up, a distinct unease washing over him. He had left Zack to go, on his own, down to check the books… something was not right.

Climbing from the bed, he eyed the sword Zack had left behind. He could be walking into a trap, completely unarmed. It was likely that the summoner who had taken their plane down was also the one who had stolen Jenova, so they would certainly have contacts in Shinra, deep enough to find out about Cloud’s travel to Nibelheim in the short hours between him telling Lazard of the destination and their arrival on the Eastern Continent. It was also likely that they would want to secure any remaining books from Hojo’s library.

Resting Zack’s sword on his shoulder, he opened the door to their cabin and rushed out, nearly bowling over a SOLDIER Second Class as he rushed to Zack’s rescue.

Zack grinned as Cloud stopped his rush to avoid slamming into him. “Worried about me?”

“Uh… yeah.” Cloud dropped the sword from his shoulder, handing it back to the SOLDIER. _Didn’t you already decide that you needed to stop trying to protect him?_

“The books are fine, let’s get some sleep.”


	12. Reunion

**October 18 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Thankfully the flight to Midgar was not as eventful as their flight out nearly a week before and though much slower, it carried them in relative comfort through the entire journey. Zack had shown his disturbing tendency to sleep anywhere and had fallen asleep almost as soon as he got under the covers. Cloud, already used to long trips on the Highwind with nothing but the droning engines to send him off, followed not long after.

As the airship carried them over the ocean between continents they had a day to rest and relax. Cloud had remained tight-lipped during the voyage, opting to remain in the cabin and read up on the books they had retrieved while Zack paced in the room and explored the rest of the airship.

The next morning they were woken by one of the airship’s crew knocking on their cabin to let them know they had arrived; the gentle twilight before morning not enough to wake them before they arrived under the oppressive Midgar sky.

“I need a hundred showers, _at least_ ,” Zack said. He threw the covers off, rising from the bed and beginning his morning stretches.

“Would you put some clothes on before you do that?” Cloud complained, rising from the bed himself and searching the floor for his scattered clothes. He had forgotten that dumping things on the floor of a moving airship was a bad idea.

“Aw, bashful Cloud?” Zack grinned with his hands on his hips, making no move to go for his clothes.

“Just put them on.” Grabbing Zack’s underwear from the messy pile, Cloud threw them at the teenager, hitting him square in the face.

“Gah!” Zack flailed, snatching the offending item from his face and begrudgingly covering himself with them. “They haven’t been washed in five days! Not cool!” He glared at Cloud while pulling the garment up his legs.

“I know they haven’t been washed, believe me.”

Zack stuck his tongue out at him. “Yeah, and I suppose you smell _soooooo_ much better. Are you always this grumpy in the mornings?”

Cloud ran a hand through his messy hair, the persistent spikes made even more unwieldy by the lack of showers. “This is me on a good morning.”

They dressed and left the cabin straight for the cargo hold. It was bustling with all sorts of workers — Cid ran an efficient operation, so despite the scant warning and lack of goods on the journey to Midgar, the crew were already busy loading the many supplies they would be taking back to the rocket. Once Cloud was satisfied the books were all accounted for they took care of the unloading themselves, borrowing a handcart from one of the dock workers and rolling it down the ramp to the full circle point of their journey, the airport on Shinra tower.

The city was more intimidating in the early morning than at sunset, the welcoming orange glow replaced by the sickly green of mako power, mixing with the dull blue of pre-dawn to create a ghastly demeanour. Bright spotlights lit up the concrete platform of the airfield, the workers briefly illuminated by the sharp spots before disappearing into silhouettes again as they scurried back and forth between the building and the airship.

“Where are you gonna keep these?” Zack asked as they pushed the cart along, approaching the elevator that they could only hope would fit their cargo.

“My apartment, I guess,” Cloud said, giving the teenager a short shrug. It was certainly an important question, he would need to find a place secure enough to hold them, and neither his apartment nor his office would suit that. He looked up as the elevator they were aiming for opened to reveal a distinctive navy suit.

“Professor, Second Fair,” Tseng greeted.

“Why do people keep calling me that?” Cloud asked, pulling the cart up just before hitting the Turk. “Don’t I have to teach classes to be a professor?”

Tseng just shrugged. “The President has certain… questions that he would like answered about your little trip.”

Cloud sighed. “Yeah, I heard. He’ll understand once I explain.”

“I’m sure he will,” Tseng replied politely, apart from the slight narrowing of his eyes. “And this?” he asked, waving a hand at the backpacks full of books.

“I’m… I don’t really know how things get classified. But these can’t be seen by anyone.”

“The Turks can handle that for you, if the President approves.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Cloud said. Most of the information in the books was probably known by the Turks anyway, or at least wouldn’t come as a surprise.

“And Fair?”

“I wasn’t allowed to see them… sir.”

“Very well, then. I will inform the President.” Tseng walked past Cloud, heading towards the Highwind.

“Are all Turks that creepy?” Zack asked as they hauled the cart into the elevator.

“Just give it ten years,” Cloud said. He swiped his keycard and hit the button for his floor. “They’ll turn into bumbling idiots.”

Zack gave Cloud a confused look as the elevator rumbled upwards. The ride was not a long one and they were soon greeted with the corridor down to Cloud’s new apartment. Hauling the cart out of the elevator, they dragged it on to the plush carpet and down the corridor.

“Hey,” Zack whispered, stopping Cloud with a gentle hand to his chest, pointing to where a faint glow of light appeared from the crack under the door. “Someone’s in there.”

Cloud stilled his movements as he heard the whispered words from Zack, stiffening his limbs and dropping into stealth mode. Would he have left the light on when he left? No, it was morning then, he wouldn’t have needed the lights. Besides, the light was… odd, not the bright yellow he would have expected from the living room lights but a faint… blue, mostly, but mixed in with hints of all other colours. He stayed as quiet as he could, trying to listen to any sound that could be coming out of the apartment, but unable to hear anything louder than Zack’s soft breathing.

He gave a short nod to Zack, who took up position on the other side of the door, drawing his broadsword as Cloud took up the opposite position, readying his keycard next to the sensor.

Cloud waved the keycard over the sensor, the lock disengaging with a soft beep and click that was almost deafening in the silence and tension of the room. He pressed one hand carefully against the door, opening it inch by inch to be able to peer inside.

Seeing that it was apparently clear, Zack slipped inside the gap the door made, sword at the ready. Cloud followed close behind, swinging the door open as he went and scanning the room. The television was on, silently bathing the room in an artificial reflection of its image. On the couch, a small body was curled up, surrounded by cushions.

“Denzel,” Cloud said to Zack quietly as he relaxed, straightening up and letting his breathing return to normal.

“He’s here?” Zack peered over to the couch, slinging his sword over his shoulder. “Damn, nice digs.”

Walking softly over to the couch, Cloud crouched down next to the boy. He was still wearing the uniform of a Shinra infantryman. “Can you bring the books in?” Cloud asked before returning his attention to Denzel, gently shaking his shoulder.

“Nghhhh… Mmm… Cloud?” Denzel muttered as he slowly woke up, rubbing his eyes blearily. “What’s that smell?”

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?” Cloud said, his voice low. “We’ll talk about this later,” he added once Zack had pushed open the door, dragging the cart full of books inside.

“Denzel, this is Zack.”

The boy’s eyes widened at Cloud’s introduction. He sat up from the couch to take his first look at the legendary hero, who had just finished smelling his armpits and was waving the air under his nose with a disgusted look on his face.

“Hey, kid.” Zack gave him a short wave. “If it’s alright with you, Cloud, I’m going to spend the morning in the shower, and uh… I think you should too.”

“Right,” Cloud said, turning back to Denzel. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be a busy day.”

Zack said his brief goodbyes and slipped out of the apartment, the door locking behind him. Deciding that the talk with Denzel could wait until he was clean, Cloud left the boy on the couch and walked to his room, grabbing a random selection of clean clothes — his dress pants and a t-shirt — from his closet and headed for a long overdue shower.

Hooking the clean clothes up on the door, he stopped in front of the sink, his reflection staring back at him from the large mirror. He looked filthy, as expected. Blood spatters from wandering monsters matted his hair, flattening his usually vibrant spikes. Oily skin combining with soot and caked mud made the face staring back at him look like it belonged to a homeless man rather than the newest executive of Shinra, Inc.

His clothes were equally filthy and completely ruined. Trekking through the mountains and sleeping on rock had taken a harsher toll on his suit than his body. Removing — in some cases peeling off — his clothes, he threw the entire mess into the corner. Swinging open the glass door, he stepped into the expansive cubicle, letting out a pleased sigh as the hot water ran down his body, carrying away the last few days and letting them all filter down the drain. The dirt, the blood, dead skin and grime, he scrubbed and scrubbed until the murky brown whirl of water at the base of the shower was nothing but the suds of overused soap and shampoo.

Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a fresh towel and quickly patted himself down, his skin flushed pink from the vigorous scrubbing it had been subjected to. Dried to his satisfaction, he wrestled into his pants, pulling a t-shirt over his head as he left the bathroom.

Denzel was in the kitchen when he walked in, unpacking the large brown bags that had been piled on to the counter and putting the groceries away in the numerous cupboards. _He always was a good kid_ , Cloud thought as he watched the boy. _Despite everything that happened to him._

“They delivered the groceries?” Cloud asked, stepping up to the bench and taking a peek at the contents of the bags.

“They were here when I got in,” Denzel replied, not turning to face him, keeping his eyes forward and attention focused on his monotonous task.

Cloud sighed. He couldn’t blame the boy for being nervous. He had likely been waiting in days for Cloud’s fatherly judgement, unsure as to how he would react and wallowing in guilt and doubt.

“Leave them here for now,” Cloud said. “Sit down, we need to talk.”

Denzel nodded silently, moping behind Cloud in the way only a teenager could, turning a form of dejection into one of locomotion.

“You look… older,” Cloud said as he sat down into the leather covered armchair. “How long have you been here?”

“About a year, or maybe less,” Denzel answered, sitting on the couch he had occupied previously, shoving aside the collected cushions. “It took a while to get into Shinra.”

“I’m trying really hard not to yell, Denzel. But of _all_ the stupid things you could do…”

Denzel hung his head.

“Why, Denzel? What were you even thinking? Why did you do it?”

Denzel shuffled forward slightly, his hands trembling. “I saw what the portal could do. I… we can bring them back, Cloud! All the people who died! You were with Zack again, and… I wanted to see my parents.”

Cloud shook his head sadly. “It’s not the same Zack. It’s him, but… it’s not the Zack who died to save me.”

“But… I saw you. You were happy with him.”

“I’m trying to make the best of it… but, I can’t help but think of all the people we left behind. I met Cid, but he didn’t know me. Our friends… they’re gone to us.”

“But we can get them back.”

“I didn’t have much time before I followed you, but I talked to Reeve. He told me that because you hadn’t changed anything we could think of, you’d probably gone to an alternate world. So our world is still going on, just without you… without us.”

“Wh… what?” Denzel looked up, mouth agape.

“When you went in, nothing changed for us — just you disappearing,” Cloud said. He sighed, knowing what he was about to say next was going to break the boy’s heart. “Tifa, Marlene and the others… they’re still living their lives without us.”

“Then… why did you come through?”

“I couldn’t leave you alone here, understand?” Cloud leaned forward, catching Denzel in his intense gaze and making sure that it was held as he spoke. “I just… have that responsibility. I’ve lived through this time, it’s harsh… it’s ruthless and I couldn’t let you face it alone.”

Denzel broke the gaze, his eyes dropping down and to the side. “Then… we should go back.”

“We can’t go back, Denzel.” Cloud said, shaking his head sadly. “All we can do is make a life for ourselves here.”

“So, we…”

“What did you think would happen?” Cloud snapped, though he regretted the tone as soon as the words left his mouth. “Even if you were able to change everything you wanted, if it had changed everything for me, wouldn’t your life still have been ruined?” he continued, softer this time. “We can’t change that. We can shape this life how we want it; it doesn’t help the people we left behind.”

“So what do we do?”

Cloud let out a huff of air, flumping bonelessly back into his chair. “I wish I could protect you from this… I just don’t know if I can.”

Denzel buried his face in his hands, trying to make himself as small as possible. He spread his fingers slightly, just leaving a small enough gap to see through. “I want to help, Cloud.”

“No,” Cloud said, shaking his head. “You need to stay as far out of this as you can.”

“But I can help! I’m in Shinra now, too.”

“And if anyone finds out that you are, they could use you to get to me. Since you’ve used my last name, you won’t be safe. It won’t take long for anyone who cares to link you to me.”

“Well… you can teach me to fight.”

“What did you think you could do when you came back here?” Cloud asked, his voice rising with each partially rhetorical question. “That you would be able to take on Shinra… that you could kill Sephiroth?”

“I didn’t think…” Denzel mumbled in response, his eyes downcast.

Cloud sighed. “No, you didn’t.”

Denzel hung his head, the meek action pulling at Cloud’s heart. Being a responsible parent was a horrible thing at times. “Are you going to kill Sephiroth?” the boy asked.

Cloud shook his head. “I don’t know what killing him would do… everything that happened was after I killed him the first time, when he joined the lifestream.”

“But it was Jenova, right? We could get rid of her.”

“No. Jenova didn’t control him, he controlled Jenova,” Cloud explained. It was the first time he had clearly laid out the difficult facts of his adventures during the Meteor crisis to the boy, previously having only relied on the common stories to placate his insatiable curiosity. “You remember I told you about when we rescued Aerith? Jenova’s body was held in that lab. Sephiroth took control of it from the lifestream, throwing parts off the body to fight us when we got close.”

Denzel nodded along, a small piece of the puzzle falling into place, but not enough to get a clear picture. His adoptive father was always somewhat cagey about the stories of the fight against Sephiroth. Cloud felt guilty over many of the things that had happened, the people who had died — that much was obvious, but there was something more, something that even Yuffie was tight-lipped about.

“Shit!” Denzel swore, leaping to his feet as his pocket started buzzing. “It’s nearly seven, I have to be at my new barracks!”

He pressed a button on the side of his phone, stopping the annoying noise. Shoving the offending object back into his pocket, he made for the door, only to be stopped by Cloud’s hand on his shoulder.

“Huh?” Denzel looked up quizzically at the outstretched hand.

Cloud had his hand out expectantly, palm upturned. “Swear jar.”

“Dammit!” Denzel grumbled, rummaging through his pockets for a gil coin, which he petulantly slapped into the waiting hand.

“Go,” Cloud said, dropping the coin into his pocket. “I’ll get you a keycard when you come back tonight.”

Denzel nodded once before he hurried out the door. Closing the door behind the boy, Cloud headed to the kitchen to continue the work of unpacking the groceries.


	13. A Momentary Rest

**October 18 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

_Bzzzzzt_.

The impertinent sound nearly made Cloud drop the cans he was holding. It was like the Planet was _trying_ to poke at his nerves today. Leaving the cans on the bench, he picked up the small phone that was discreetly tucked into the wall.

“Hello?”

_Dr. Strife? This is security, there is a SOLDIER Fair that wants access to your floor._

“Let him in.”

_Very well, sir._

Hanging the phone back up, he resumed reordering his new kitchen. Soon, the silence was broken by a firm knock. Opening the door, Cloud was greeted by a grinning Zack, dressed slightly more casually he was, having thrown on jeans and a t-shirt before coming over.

“You look like a new man,” joked Zack with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked in.

“You’re smelling better yourself,” Cloud said, dodging the SOLDIER’s wandering hand and heading back to the kitchen.

“Shinra brand military shampoo! Because we’re worthless,” Zack said while following Cloud, perching himself on one of the high stools at the countertop. “Where’s the kid?”

“Finding his new barracks.”

“So…”

“So.”

“Remember that whole thing about bringing me in? Telling me everything? Well, I’ve got the time.”

“I will,” Cloud said. He pulled a frying pan off its hook and set it down on the stove top. “You want some eggs?”

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

Pulling a handful of eggs out of the remaining bag, Cloud cracked their shells against the edge of the frying pan, spilling their insides on to the hot iron where they mixed together, happily sizzling. Leaving the eggs for a moment, he checked the fridge, pulling out the additional ingredients of butter and milk. Zack watched him from the counter, uncharacteristically silent as Cloud worked on their food.

“It’s not that I want to keep things from you, Zack,” Cloud said at last. He stirred the slowly congealing mixture as he talked, eyes fixed on the pan. “It’s just… I thought I’d moved on. Healed. But it hurts, it still hurts. Even just talking about it.”

“I uh… heh.” He may not have been able to see Zack, but he could still feel the tension and nervousness. “Well, I was going to say I understand, but that’s a lie. But, y’know, I’ll listen, right?”

“Yeah,” Cloud said, dishing out the scrambled eggs on to two large plates. “I know.” Handing a plate over to Zack, he dumped the now empty pan into the sink and sat down next to him to have his own breakfast.

“Kunsel told me a rumour about how you got the job.”

Cloud mumbled around a mouthful of eggs, “yeah.”

“So… you did it? You killed Hojo for his job?”

Cloud sighed. “I killed Hojo for what he did. The job was… unexpected.”

“What did he do?”

“You saw most of it at the reactor. They were people once…” His fork was shaking. He put it back on the plate and tried to still his trembling hands. “He did that to them because he was curious. Because he wanted to see what happened if he turned them into monsters. Then he just abandoned them there… like they didn’t even matter.”

He could feel the full weight of Zack’s stare on him.

“He did the same thing to me,” Cloud said. “We were all people once, before he…”

“Don’t say that, Cloud… you can’t-”

“It’s okay, Zack. I used to believe it, but it’s… it’s okay now. It’s just… there are some parts of my brain that haven’t caught up, I guess. I was trapped in that place for four years. That’s why I had to destroy it. It wasn’t just the books — it was the memories.”

“Four years…” Zack’s breath hitched as he said the words, almost in a whisper. “At least you got free.”

“But the price of freedom is steep. I was trapped in there with my best friend,” Cloud said. He kept his eyes down on the counter. He just knew that if he looked at Zack while he got the words out, he would break. “He got us out, but he died while we were on the run.”

He felt Zack’s hand rest on his shoulder. “Tell me about him.”

Cloud smiled wistfully. “He was the greatest hero that ever lived, Zack. I’ll tell you his story one day.”

“I’d like that.”

 

* * *

 

Cloud had been sitting down at his desk for the past half hour, staring at the blinking red light on his phone. Mental wounds were like scabs, he supposed. They could be healed enough that they no longer bothered you, but if you picked at them they would start bleeding anew.

_No… impossible!_

_This one here… intriguing, most intriguing!_

_Hey, Cloud. I have to go to Midgar. You wanna come with me?_

_What did they do to you in that place?_

Cloud gripped the side of the desk to still his shaking hands. This was his price for refusing to forget what Zack and he had gone through — as he had done so long ago — but it was one he would gladly pay. It never got easier, but each time he was better at pushing through and getting on with his life. Taking a determined breath, he picked up the handset and pressed the light.

_You have thirteen new messages. To play the first message, press one._

Cloud sighed. Just the concept of voicemail was a more recent, though less bitter memory. He pressed the ‘1’ button.

_You have not set up your voicemail. To set up your voicemail…_

With an annoyed grunt, Cloud hit ‘1’ again.

_To confirm, press ‘1’._

_Beep._

_Messages deleted._

“What? No!” Cloud started pressing even more buttons, trying to get the messages back.

_To set up your voicemail, please…_

He slammed the handset back down, small splinters of plastic flying off the desk. Well, hopefully no one had left him anything important.

Taking a few deep breaths, he turned his attention to his terminal, taking a few moments to find the switch that turned the damn thing on. He’d only really dealt with computers out of necessity before and even now he struggled at getting anything past the basics.

After briefly wrestling with the convoluted interface, he sent an e-mail to the President’s secretary about the demanded meeting with the man. He checked his own messages, most of them endless reminders about forms he had yet to sign and various conniving employees looking to test the limits of their new boss. _Office politics_ , Cloud thought to himself, straining to avoid another heavy sigh. It was hard to enjoy working in a place where you couldn’t punch people who were desperately in need of a good punching.

Ah, at least there was _something_ worthwhile. He flicked his eyes over the email.

To: Strife, Cloud

Subject: Your new secretary

Cloud tried to avoid slamming his head into the desk once he had read the email. Since Reno would be too obvious, Shinra had assigned Elena as his new secretary. A cunning choice, as no one could guess that she was a Turk in training — unless they happened to be from the future. Cloud closed his eyes, trying to think back to what he knew about Elena during this time. She had only become a Turk after Cloud had given Reno such a beating at the Sector 7 plate that they needed to find a replacement. That fight had been the reason that Reno still walked with a slight limp every so often… well, one of two reasons.

At this time, Elena would be in Shinra’s Military Academy, likely on the fast track to becoming a Turk like her sister. Of _course_ she would jump at an opportunity to spy on him for the Turks and secure her place in their organisation. He picked up the phone, wincing at the little pieces of plastic that dropped to his desk, and dialled the number that was helpfully included in the e-mail.

“Elena? This is Cloud Strife.”

_Oh, yes! Hello Professor!_ The voice of the young woman bubbled from the line. _Are you in your office? I was just setting up my desk. You’re in your office, right? I’ll be over in a minute!_

Cloud pulled the receiver away from his ear, blinking at the endless stream of words — at least they were followed by a sharp click and dial tone. Elena had not yet lost her overly excitable and talkative manner just yet, leading Cloud to wonder if her penchant for letting secrets slip would likewise be intact. It was highly unlikely that the Turks would have told her any useful or relevant information, but being able to feed back whatever misinformation he pleased would be… well, if not helpful, then enormously amusing.

It did not take long for the knock on the door to arrive, followed by a neatly cropped head of hair poking itself around the doorway, framing the face of an unexpectedly young Elena. He raised an eyebrow as Elena stepped into the office, throwing him a nervous but well practiced salute.

“Sir!” she mumbled, dropping back into an at-ease position, despite not having been given permission. Cloud just stared back, his face blank enough to make Sephiroth proud as he assessed her. Obviously she was still used to a military setting, being somewhat confused with the protocols of dealing with a superior who was a civilian.

“I’m uh… Elena, sir,” she introduced once a few moments had passed without being acknowledged. “Your new secretary.”

“You’re a little young,” Cloud said, still not ceasing his appraising gaze. He wondered not for the first time what sort of culture Shinra had, taking young people, barely more than children, and not just training them in the military but sending them on assignments as well.

“Yes, sir… p-professor,” Elena stammered, shifting her weight slightly in her semi-military posture. “I’m here to help with administrative tasks. Professor Rayleigh will be your assistant when she returns.”

Cloud sighed, breaking eye contact and shifting forward in his chair. The poor girl was nervous enough, he didn’t need to add to it. “Very well, then,” he said in what he hoped was an authoritative manner of speaking.

“Is there anything I can help you with now, sir?” she asked.

Cloud considered it for a moment, he had a lot of Hojo’s notes to get through and it wasn’t like the Turks would be shocked by anything that they dug up. In fact, they were more likely to keep it secret than Cloud was. He nodded to Elena after a brief pause, “yes, you can look into the old professor’s notes and e-mails. If you find anything interesting, or anything about Jenova, SOLDIER, Sephiroth or Genesis, let me know.” He schooled his most serious expression on her, trying to suppress the playful smirk that was threatening to surface. “Whatever you do, make sure the Turks don’t find what we’re looking for!”

“Yes, sir!” She said, performing a stiff salute. “I won’t let you down!” Elena turned on her heel and scurried out of the room.

Cloud leaned back in his chair. Secretaries, desks and offices, it was all so delightfully mundane. He would have to be careful with Elena, though. She was a capable and at-times dangerous Turk and even if it had taken many years of experience to reach that from her bumbling days facing Cloud and his friends, the hints of those Turk instincts were still visible.


	14. The Skyscraper of Iron and Steel

**October 19 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

It didn’t take long for the threatened meeting to arrive, in the form of Rude ‘escorting’ him to the President’s office on the top floor of Shinra tower. At least it had interrupted his oh-so-thrilling task of approving expense claims.

“Take a seat,” the president said, as soon as Cloud had reached the top of the stairs. Taking a brief look around him, he could only see Tseng in the room, standing silent and vigilant near the entrance. Nodding slightly, he pulled a chair up to the president’s enormous desk and sat down.

“Let’s be clear, Mr. Cloud. You have me hostage, like Hojo did,” Shinra started, standing from his own overly pompous chair, pacing back and forth in the small cubicle his desk made as he gave his speech. “Without someone who can make new SOLDIERs, we lose our biggest military advantage. You clearly know this. However, there are limits. I still have the resources to restart the SOLDIER program from the beginning if you become a liability. Am I clear?”

Cloud shrugged. Honestly, he had tuned out most of it. Both the president and his son had a tendency to make everything a long drawn out speech. He’d made a game of interrupting Rufus as much as possible, just to see how long it would take for him to stop. He never did. “Not really. I take it this is about my trip to Nibelheim?”

“It is a warning for the future.” Shinra pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket, expertly clipping the end off and lighting it in one smooth motion. “So, tell me, why the sudden trip to Nibelheim?”

“It was about the Jenova project.” Cloud glanced over at the Turk standing silently at the entrance. “It would be best to talk about it privately.”

Shinra took the cigar from his mouth, letting out a long stream of smoke that caused Cloud to cough irritably. “Tseng has been involved in all aspects of this latest… incident. He can hear this too.”

“Fine. I went to Nibelheim to get some of the… materials that Hojo left behind.”

“You decided not to inform me of this?” Shinra glared back, wedging the fat cigar back into the side of his mouth.

“I could not risk anyone getting there first,” Cloud replied. “Even that didn’t work. Jenova was gone when I got there.”

“Is that all it was for?” Shinra let out an amused horse laugh, standing from his desk once more to pace around. “We haven’t needed Jenova in years.”

“Perhaps you should be more concerned.” Cloud rubbed his temples. Just when you became wary of the man, thinking he was sharper than he looked, he would say something profoundly idiotic. “If someone has Jenova, they could create their own SOLDIER program. In months, not years.”

“If someone tried,” Shinra said with a complete lack of concern, “we would know who took her. They would be crushed in a day.”

“Everything I went to Nibelheim for. Jenova. The research in the mansion library. Everything that you and Hojo left lying around,” Cloud said, growing more annoyed as the president dismissed each problem he listed like it were a joke. “They are all the ingredients anyone needs to make their own SOLDIERS, to make their own Sephiroth.”

“I can see this concerns you, Mr. Cloud. Please, tell me what you found there.”

“There wasn’t much. Nothing in the reactor was forced open, at least outside the chamber. Unless Jenova walked out of there herself, it was someone who had access codes.” He had his suspicions, not that he was ready to share them.

Plucking the cigar from his mouth, Shinra lay it carefully down in his ashtray, leaving it to smoulder. “You said there was research there as well? Is that what Tseng saw you carry up?”

“At the mansion where Hojo had his lab. I took the books that would be useful and burned the rest. If that information fell into the wrong hands…” He left off the part where Shinra would be included in his description of ‘wrong hands’.

“I see.” The president looked over Cloud’s shoulder to Tseng, who just nodded his head.

“All of this, lying around where even the townspeople could wander in.” Another verbal poke in the ribs.

Shinra sighed, folding his arms on the desk and leaning towards Cloud. “What do you suggest I do, then?”

Cloud thought on this for a moment, trying to decide on an actual suggestion. He knew what he needed to do, what he wanted to do and what would be best for Shinra. Somehow, there was a way to balance those, even if for only the short term. “Find all of the research projects and labs that the Science Department has hidden,” he replied finally. “Not just Hojo’s. Destroy them and bring the research back here.”

“There is a lot of money invested in those projects. Is this about your… ethical concerns with the Science Department?” _How did he make ‘ethical’ sound like a dirty word?_

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that Genesis defected because of research he found lying around. If people find out about those projects, or if it falls into the hands of your rivals…”

“Rivals? There are no rivals to Shinra left. And the people…” Shinra laughed. “The people will object to what I tell them to object to. They will approve of what I tell them they approve of. Concern yourself with the running of your department, Mr. Cloud, and I will concern myself with the running of my company. We will be having a board meeting in a ten minutes on floor sixty-six, I expect you to be there.”

Taking that as a dismissal, Cloud nodded to his boss and rose from his chair, walking to the door without another word.

“Mr. Cloud,” the president called just as he was about to reach the stairs. Cloud turned, raising a querying eyebrow at him.

“I know you have your own agenda, and I don’t particularly care. Just don’t cross me, and we’ll do fine.”

Cloud gave him a short nod and left the room.

 

* * *

 

Not wanting to be interrupted by anyone before the meeting, Cloud took the elevator directly to the meeting room, stopping to grab an energy bar from one of the vending machines in the hall. Shouldering the door open while he unwrapped the bar, he grabbed a seat at the long wooden table and munched happily away while waiting for the other executives to arrive.

A sudden unpleasant smell reminded him that not only was security terrible in this building, but the general design was as well. The air duct that served the board room lead directly to the toilets, a fact that had allowed him to eavesdrop on the executive meeting on his mission to rescue Aerith, but now only served to put him off his food. He carefully placed the bar back in the wrapper, shoving it into his pocket just as the doors to the room opened. Scarlet, wearing a full evening dress like she was preparing a night out at the opera, was flanked by the enormous bearded Heidegger, his military uniform lined with medals he had awarded himself.

Scarlet sauntered towards Cloud, a venomous mockery of a smile frozen into her face. “So, you must be the new Hojo,” she said, slowly chewing on a lip as her eyes roamed the full length of his body. “Well, at least you’re more pleasing to the eye.”

Cloud narrowed his eyes at the woman. His dislike of the woman was on behalf of his friends — she had attempted to have Tifa executed and succeeded in the destruction of Barret’s hometown — and he had reason enough to be wary of her on his own. She was after all the most competent, and most dangerous, of any of the members of the executive board. Well, apart from perhaps Reeve, but it was a long time since he had thought of his friend as being a member of the board.

“You will not introduce yourself? Manners, my dear boy!” She let out a laugh that Cloud could only describe as ‘less maniacal than usual’.

“Cloud Strife,” he mumbled.

“My name is Scarlet,” she replied, leaning in. “And the pleasure, my dear, is all mine.”

“Heidegger,” introduced the large man. For once, he was glad to actually interact with the man, and took the proffered hand quickly, giving it a firm shake. The action seemed to amuse Scarlet, who let out another chilling laugh.

“I am the Head of Weapons Development here at Shinra. We’ve had a wonderful relationship with the Science Department, I do hope that can continue.”

Heidegger let out a mocking huff, before turning to find his position at the desk. The man was a buffoon, and Cloud had little to worry about from him. But Scarlet, she was ruthless. He had no doubt that she was already plotting to increase her power in the company after the demise of Hojo.

“Ah, you must be…”

“The new head of the Science Department,” Scarlet finished for the newcomer. “Hello, Reeve.”

“Scarlet,” Reeve nodded at the woman before taking another sip from his coffee. Cloud took a seat at the table, picking a seat opposite from Scarlet and Heidegger.

“I heard that you had a rather harrowing journey in your first week,” Reeve noted as he sat down.

“I heard that you had Hojo killed to get his job,” Scarlet added. “I hope that’s not a precedent you’re setting.”

“He wouldn’t be the first one,” Heidegger mumbled behind his beard.

“Well, I had just heard that your plane was shot down,” Reeve continued, ignoring the other two. “It is good to see that you made it in one piece.”

“And back in time for the meeting,” Scarlet said with a wide smile. “So very punctual.”

He avoided any particular unpleasantries as the final suits entered: Palmer, the incompetent buffoon that was heading the space program and Lazard, administrative director of SOLDIER. Once they were all seated at the table, President Shinra arrived to take his seat at the head of the board, flanked on one side by a stoic Tseng. Cloud noted with interest that Veld, the head of the Turks he had heard mentioned, was not present.

“I am sure that by now you have all heard the news that SOLDIER First Class Genesis Rhapsodos has gone missing while leading our ground forces in Wutai. I have recently had word from the front that many SOLDIER Second and Third classes have also failed to report in, everywhere from Junon to Midgar, but mostly in Wutai. This is no coincidence; we are dealing with a mass desertion.”

“How many soldiers are we talking about?” Scarlet asked.

“My current estimate is a little over a hundred,” Lazard said, his fingers coming together to form a peak as he leaned forward on the desk.

“A _hundred_ soldiers?” Scarlet blurted out incredulously. “There are a _hundred_ mako-enhanced super soldiers that have turned against the company? What have you morons being doing?”

“There was no way we could have seen it coming!” Heidegger protested loudly.

“We believe Hollander may have been involved,” Tseng added, breaking his long silence. “We found many documents missing from the Science Department archives. It is unlikely to be a coincidence that these events coincide.”

“Professor Strife has made his concerns on… information security known,” Shinra said, all eyes turning to him as he spoke. “For now, I want every department to tighten security. Professor, you are to work with the Turks to close down any external research sites. Scarlet, Reeve, you are to work on our electronic security.”

Cloud eyed the President warily. From the way he had reacted at their little meeting, it didn’t seem like the President had taken any of what he had said seriously. Still, he could not afford to be looking a gift horse in the mouth just at the moment. Closing down the research sites would be an incredible opportunity to purge the most vile aspects of Shinra’s empire.

“And about Wutai?” Heidegger asked. “With Genesis gone, our forces no longer have a commander.”

“We will send Sephiroth to take command,” the president replied.

“SOLDIER First Class Hewley will also be sent,” Lazard added, “we are evaluating his student for a possible promotion to First Class.”

“His student is Zack Fair?” Cloud asked.

“That is correct. He was the one that accompanied you,” Lazard confirmed.

“Well, I can evaluate right now that without him I’d be dead, so I think he’d make a good First Class.” He couldn’t say he was above using his influence to help out his friends.

“I will take that under consideration,” Lazard said, his voice dripping with polite diplomacy. “But we require a thorough evaluation before promoting a SOLDIER to First Class.”

“If that is all,” President Shinra interrupted. “Then this meeting is finished. If you want to talk about a specific soldier, take it to your office.”

The rest of the executives quickly filed out, eager to get back to whatever work they had planned. Lazard, however, stayed behind with Cloud and turned to the other blond once the rest of the meeting had left the room.

“I am always wary when the Science Department takes an interest in one of my SOLDIERs,” Lazard warned. “I would ask you to keep your distance from Fair.”

Cloud narrowed his eyes. Like that was ever going to happen. Zack being alive was the one good thing to come out of this mess and no one could take that away from him.

“You won’t tell me who I can’t be friends with, Lazard,” Cloud growled. “And I doubt you can tell Zack that either.”

Lazard looked utterly pole-axed. “You’re… friends?” he asked as if the possibility was completely alien to him. “Well, I uh… suppose that’s different then.”

Lazard stood from the desk and coughed, smoothing down his jacket before awkwardly turning away from Cloud and mumbling under his breath. It was only with enhanced hearing that he could catch what was said.

“I suppose if anyone… Fair would… of course Fair would…”

 

* * *

 

Tseng was well used to Reno’s various eccentricities by now. In a way, they were useful, since they allowed him to read the younger Turk in ways that got around his infinitely more cagey words. For instance, he was now late to their regular meeting on Cloud Strife’s surveillance, which meant he had something worth sharing — worth enough to risk Tseng’s ire at keeping him waiting.

When Reno did eventually walk through his office door, Tseng took a quick glance at his clock — seven minutes late. He had something good then, but not good enough to really keep Tseng waiting. Something about the way Reno walked in caught Tseng’s attention, though. He was expecting a cocky grin and brief crack before the other Turk slumped into the chair. Not the stiff, almost haunted look. Reno was keeping professional, and that was worrying.

“Did you find anything interesting?”

“Yeah, you could call it interesting,” Reno said. His voice lowered slightly and he shuffled a little closer to the desk. “Freaking weird is more like it, though.”

Tseng raised an eyebrow slightly. He was used to Reno’s flair for the dramatic and usually refrained from indulging that side. But there was something else here, something that was screaming at his instincts.

“He rented out a locker down in the slums,” Reno said. His voice was down to a whisper and he leaned over the desk. “Found some stuff stashed away there, including a phone. Not his Shinra one, he has a second phone.”

“He has not been with the company long. That does not seem surprising by itself.”

“Yeah, but get this… it’s crazy advanced — shit, it took me a while to realise it _was_ a phone.”

That caught Tseng’s attention. He leaned in as Reno showed him a picture he had taken of the phone. Thin, but rather large. The screen took up the entire area of the phone and there were no buttons to be seen. It looked rather similar to the computing tablets that the science team used when monitoring experiments, but this was much smaller and from what he could see of the screen, definitely a phone.

“Did you manage to get anything from this phone?”

“Nah, nothing,” Reno said, scratching the short hair at the back of his neck. “Couldn’t jack the data, couldn’t even put a bug in it. Wouldn’t accept any of our software.”

Tseng leaned back in his chair, digesting the information — and what a piece of information. It was very much like Strife, he noted. Plain, honest, out in the open… and completely impossible to decipher.

“Extremely advanced technology is not unusual for Shinra’s Science Department. But Strife has not shown an interest in it before.”

“I’ve seen him confused by a coffee machine, man. Technology is totally not his thing.”

“Then we need more information for this to make sense,” Tseng said with a sigh. It was a conclusion he was coming to a lot lately when it concerned the new executive, but each new piece of information made things less, not more, clear. It was a Turk’s worst nightmare. “You’re dismissed.”

Tseng was on the phone as soon as the door closed. He could tell Reno was conflicted, perhaps even lying to him.

That was not acceptable for a Turk.

“Rude. My office, now.”


	15. Conflict

**October 20 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Cloud sat in front of the empty classroom, trying to organise the scattered papers he’d brought to the lectern. He had finally been dumped into the deep end of the ‘Professor’ portion of his job — he was required to give a lecture on mako to the SOLDIER recruits, and with only a couple of hours of preparation. He had a strong suspicion that Hojo never wasted his time with it, probably sending one of his underlings instead, but it was becoming apparent that he did not have the firm control over his department that the mad scientist did.

Luckily he had been able to grab last year’s slides from one of his researchers, and he’d spent the whole morning reading through them, taking notes and making adjustments. It was this aspect of the job that filled him with the most dread. After Elena had called him last night to remind him about the class, he had suffered from one long nightmare about standing in front of rows of SOLDIERs, all looking at him expectantly, judging him as all his attempts to speak came out in a jumbled, stuttering mess.

The first cadets started filing in and it seemed like every one of them gave them a curious look as they found their seat. He tried his best to ignore them, and busied himself setting up the slides. He’d given up on trying to get the electronic slides to work and was busy ordering the printed slides so he could put them up on the projector. His kept his head down despite his fraying nerves, the presence of so many people overwhelming his enhanced senses.

He looked up at the clock. Five minutes past. Time to start.

“Ahem… welcome, everyone, to your introduction to mako course,” he said. He was reading directly off his notes now, heart thumping in his chest. “This course is to give you a basic understanding of mako, which will be very important in your future as SOLDIERs. Before we start, are there any questions?”

He immediately regretted asking that. A dozen hands must have shot up.

“You in the front,” he stammered out, pointing to one of the younger cadets in the front row.

“Did you kill Professor Hojo?”

A murmur filled the room, some of the cadets never having heard the rumours, but most unable to believe that the kid in the front could have the gall to ask such a question.

This was possibly the worst thing that could’ve happened, but how had he not expected it? Shinra ran on rumours after all, and it wouldn’t have taken long for the fate of Hojo to become widely known. In the end, there was no point trying to deny them.

“Yes,” Cloud replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. The chattered doubled, everyone frantically trying to get their two gil in to the person next to them. That is, until the kid at the front spoke up again.

“Why?”

The silence was as abrupt as it was complete, with every pair of eyes in the room turning to watch Cloud with anticipation. Cloud narrowed his eyes at the kid.

“He asked too many questions,” he said dangerously, and immediately regretted it. The kid turned pale, and a hundred saucer-wide eyes looked back at him. He sighed, he should have handled that better. It was just a kid, albeit an extremely impertinent one.

“This is not a topic for discussion, you are here to learn about mako.”

Well, that was certainly one way to take control of a classroom. The rest of the lesson went about as well as he could hope, with no one daring to raise their hand even when prompted. The slides went over the history and uses of mako in a Shinra-friendly light, and he could only edit that so far. The only major change he could get away with was a section on the ‘Cultural Views of Mako’, explaining that there were belief systems that viewed mako as being the lifeblood of the planet, and had opposed Shinra’s mako reactors because of this.

“This is the only lecture you’ll have on the subject,” Cloud said to a wave of palpable relief from the cadets. “But whatever you might hear about mako, I want you to remember this: it is dangerous, and it is powerful. Do not take it lightly in any form you find it.”

Bar the shuffling of feet, the class walked out in the same dead silence they had sat through the lecture in. No one dared say anything, or even look at Cloud as they left.

Cloud was distracted too, trying to spot Denzel in the sea of cadets as they left. He had been sure Denzel would be there — all SOLDIER cadets were required to take Introduction to Mako as one of their few theory activities. With a concerned glance as the last cadets filed out, he resolved to go find him.

 

* * *

 

As promised, he picked up a spare keycard from the front desk while he was there, signing Denzel’s name to be permanently allowed access to his apartment. It was a risk to so blatantly link Denzel to him, but it was already too late to keep it a secret. Thanking the secretary for both the card and the printout he was given of Denzel’s schedule, he left the lobby and headed for the army barracks.

Shinra Headquarters was a thin tower on the level he worked, and most of the levels above the fortieth floor. But at the base the structure was a single huge, sprawling building that encompassed most of Sector 0. Each wing of the complex covered one of the major departments, with the training areas and barracks of the security forces occupying the largest wing, followed by the manufacturing sectors of the weapons development department - Heidegger and Scarlet’s territory, respectively. There were several areas in this part of the building under his purview that he had not yet looked at, several of the larger and less secretive research labs, many of the medical bays that mostly serviced the soldiers and the building’s own hospital, the largest hospital in the world — which, of course, only served those with the wealth for admission.

Fortunately the army located their barracks close to the central tower of the Shinra building, either for convenience to the army staff or for added security in case the tower were attacked, in an uncharacteristic display of competence and planning by Shinra staff. Although seemingly to make up for this unusual allowance of reason was a characteristic display of cheapness and cost cutting, each corridor seemed like it had been copied and pasted from the previous, endless doors and rooms of same construction that Cloud was only able to navigate by posted numbers and signs until he reached the correct barracks.

As he approached the door, his sensitive ears started picking up the sounds of a fight, muffled yelling and the unmistakable sound of punches being thrown. Shoving the schedule back into his pocket, he grabbed the handle and twisted, throwing the door open and storming into the room.

The whole group of cadets, a dozen of them all under the age of fifteen, were surrounding the figure of Denzel who was being held in place by his fellow cadets, each outstretched arm being held in place by a different boy. From Cloud’s view of at the door he could already see Denzel had taken quite a beating, trickles of blood flowing from his nose and mouth, one eye beginning to swell and bruise.

“What the hell is going on?” Cloud practically growled out the words as all the eyes in the room turned to him, Denzel’s hopeful eyes widening and his tormentors glowering eyes narrowing. He could see now from the faces of the three boys who were hitting Denzel that he had obviously fought back, half the room seemed to be sporting either bloody noses or split lips.

Cloud flipped out his cell phone, trying to send off a quick text to Zack while keeping eye contact with the boys who were slowly backing down, Denzel shaking loose the arms that were holding him in place. _Denzel was in a fight. Need help. Barracks 14H._ He may not have the military authority to deal with this situation, but a SOLDIER Second Class certainly would.

“Who are you?” One of the boys asked in a tone bordering on impertinence, though he cowed quickly back once Cloud concentrated the full force of his glare on the youth. Denzel opened his mouth to answer the question for him, but was silenced with another quick look.

For now, Cloud resigned himself to dealing with the problem on his own. Hazing, or more accurately, military bullying was something he had plenty of experience with, enough to know that it was unlikely that he, as both an outsider and an adult, could do anything to stop it.

“I take it none of you attended the lecture?” He looked around the room, two of the boys looked like they wanted to say something but were too terrified — well, that was easy to guess. “You two did?”

“Yes, professor.”

“The rest of you better have a good reason for that,” Cloud said, his glare travelling down the line of cadets until he had eyed them into submission. He sighed, many of them were in bad shape, holding their noses to stem the flow of blood or trying to wipe their cuts, creating horrible red smears along their cheeks or uniforms. Denzel was looking in particularly bad shape, and one of the boys was holding his side in a way that screamed at all of Cloud’s instincts as a medic.

“Alright, you,” he pointed at one of the cadets that seemed to be uninjured, “get the first aid kit, and you,” he pointed at another uninjured cadet, “go to the toilets and find some tissues or toilet roll.”

_Beep beep._

Cloud flipped open his phone irritably, annoyed that it had interrupted his orders. He quickly checked the screen, to find a reply for his previous text. _Sorry! Was at Wall Market! omw back, I’ll see what I can do!_

“I’ll fix up anyone who is bleeding, then you’re all going to the infirmary,” he continued, finding that in the time he had checked his phone the cadet had already found the first aid kit. He took the box from the boy with a nod. “Anyone who decides to slip away might as well pack their bags when they do, because I will have them fired. Am I clear?”

There were half nods and murmured words of assent all round, so Cloud got to work on treating the boys.

“Don’t hold your head back,” he said, gently pushing a boy’s head forward and guiding his hand up to his nose. “If your nose is bleeding, just pinch it. You don’t want blood going down your throat.”

He reached Denzel next, noting the wince of pain every time he tried to pinch close his nose. “It looks like it’s broken,” Cloud said after a short sigh. Picking up a roll of toilet paper from the returning cadet, he unwound a few sheets to make a scrunched up ball of paper, handing it to Denzel to stem the flow of blood. Gently wiping away the trail of blood from his chin, he tore out more wads of paper to hand to cadets with likewise bleeding noses.

From the wide eyed looks of horror quickly dawning on the faces of the cadets, Cloud could tell that someone had entered the room, even before he could see the brief flash of black hair and SOLDIER uniform standing in the doorway from the corner of his eye. “That was qui-” he started, only for his face to fall in a similar look of shocked surprise as he saw that it was not Zack standing in the doorway as he expected, but Angeal.

“First Class Hewley,” he said stiffly, frowning at the barely restrained glee appearing on the cadets faces as they saw his discomfort at the new arrival. It was like the little jerks could smell weakness.

“Zack told me there was a fight,” Angeal said, walking into the room to the sight of cadets trying to stand rigidly to military attention while holding large wads of tissue paper to their noses. “What happened?”

“They wouldn’t tell me,” Cloud replied, setting the first aid box down on one of the bunks. It would not be needed immediately, it would be better to fix them up at the infirmary. “I’m sending them to the infirmary, it can wait until after they’ve stopped bleeding.”

“You heard him,” Angeal said quietly to the cadets. The man had a presence that meant he did not need to bark or yell, the cadets immediately following his orders and leaving the room in a quick and orderly line

Cloud stayed behind until the last of the cadets had left the room, sparing a quick glance at the quiet SOLDIER before moving to leave the room himself.

“Hold on,” Angeal stopped him with an extended arm, hand pressed against his chest. “Zack said it was your son in a fight. What happened?”

_Of course, Zack would trust anyone. Including, or especially, Angeal; even though Angeal was the last person that Zack should trust._ “When I arrived, they were holding him down and beating him,” Cloud replied. “That’s all I saw.”

Angeal nodded, dropping his hand and letting Cloud go past and following him out into the hallway and after the line of cadets. They had all filed meekly down the hallway, tissue paper held to noses and a few pained shufflings from some, clutching their sides as they walked.

Thankfully for them the infirmary was not far, a converted training room that served as sort of an outpost, serving the soldiers in the barracks and training rooms that did not need the specialised services of the hospital. The waiting room was almost empty, the few soldiers seated there stopping to stare at the procession of bloody and bruised cadets meekly taking their seats, followed quietly by a civilian and one of the highest ranking SOLDIERs in Shinra.

“Oh! You must be Doctor Strife… or was it Professor?” One of the doctors on duty walked up to him, white coat swaying as she walked. “Oh, an e-mail was sent around when you became department head. I recognised you from the picture,” she added sheepishly to Cloud’s confused stare, “it’s… uh, the hair.”

“Right.” Cloud just shrugged, he had developed a fairly thick skin to comments about his hair, at least this one had not been malicious. He turned from the doctor, waving his arm to indicate the seated cadets. “They mostly just have cuts and scrapes. A few broken noses, and these two,” he indicated Denzel and another boy who had been holding his side, “may have broken ribs.”

The doctor nodded along to each explanation of injury. “Butch, can you call some of the nurses in?” she called to the receptionist, before turning back to Cloud. “I’ll have the nurses patch up the cuts, I’ll check the breaks myself.”

“I have some time, I’ll help,” Cloud said, much to the puzzlement of the doctor. Motioning to Denzel to follow him, he spared a quick glance at the corner of the room where Angeal was quietly questioning one of the cadets. Checking the doors for a spare exam room he eventually found one, leading the boy inside.


	16. A Changing Situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I stuffed up with uploading and this is the chapter that got the notification! Please see the latest chapter (37) for new chapters/notes!

**October 20 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Tell me what happened,” Cloud said as he set about examining Denzel. His face was covered in smeared blood, making his cuts harder to find. The only other injury visible was minor swelling around the nose, though it was unlikely to stay minor for long if he had broken it.

“Id wab jubt.” Denzel winced, cutting his attempt at an explanation short as Cloud’s fingers brushed against his swelling nose.

“Shh. It’s alright,” Cloud soothed, picking up alcohol wipes from the nearby trolley. “You’re having trouble breathing?”

Denzel responded with a nod.

“Alright, don’t try to talk. Just breathe through your mouth.” Ripping the wipes from the packet, he ran them over the bloody skin, Denzel wincing whenever the stinging disinfectant seeped into a cut. “I’ll need to set your nose right before it heals.”

Rooting through the drawers until he found the tools he needed, he dumped them into the tray on the trolley and wheeled it over next to the bed. Gently moving Denzel until he was lying down with his head back, he took the blood soaked tissue paper from the boy’s nose, noting with satisfaction that the bleeding had stopped.

Gently pressing his thumbs on either side of the nose, despite Denzel’s wincing and hissed breath, he could not feel that either the bone or cartilage were significantly out of alignment, though it was most likely broken or fractured. Taking a roll of gauze he carefully padded out each nostril, strapping the nose into place once he was satisfied it was the right shape.

“You’ll have to get your ribs x-rayed,” Cloud said to the boy, cleaning more of the dried blood off his face with another alcohol wipe.

“So, tell me how the fight started,” he asked as he gently cleaned away the blood.

“… about my transfer…” was all Cloud could pick out from the combination of teenage muttering and a nose stuffed full of gauze. “… kept on… saying things…”

“So you hit one of them?” The wide-eyed look on Denzel’s face was all the confirmation he needed. A normal beating, well… as normal as you could call it, would not have gone that far. Mostly they were done to establish the weird pecking order of maladjusted military teens, or to punish some perceived but usually insignificant slight. But even the densest of knuckle-dragging bullies knew by instinct that visible marks or hospitalising fellow troops would bring down a shitstorm of scrutiny on their commanding officer, which would inevitably flow downhill to them.

However, Denzel had thrown the first punch, a serious offence even in the face of provocation. But that was not the worrying part: despite his eagerness to emulate his adoptive father, Denzel had never been a violent boy and for him to hit someone over just words, that was bringing up worries he had been holding since Sephiroth’s second revival. Rummaging through the drawers at the back of the room, Cloud pulled out an ophthalmoscope and sat back down next to Denzel. “I’m going to use this to look into your eyes, ok? There’s something I need to check.”

Placing fingers above and below the boys eye, he pulled the eyelids back, placing the instrument up to his own eye to hunt for the telltale glow. “I thought so. I was afraid of this.” He slipped his hand into Denzel’s, as much for his own comfort as for his sons. “You’ve had Jenova cells from your Geostigma, and now mako from the reactor. What does that make?”

Denzel kicked back from the bed with his legs, shrinking as far away from Cloud as the firm grip would allow, his eyes wide with terror as he stared at their interlocking hands. Cloud could feel the faintest hints of that… _connection_ , and in that moment he knew Denzel could feel it too. It would make anyone panic, that sudden feeling of having another mind brush against your own. He had tried to describe it to Tifa years ago while trying to sort through the mental violations he had suffered. The best he could come up with was that it hit you suddenly, sweeping the world out from under your feet because it changed your very identity. Your mind was no longer exclusively your own.

“The cells, they can make you angry. They’ll make you do things you wouldn’t normally do,” Cloud said, pulling Denzel into a careful hug, making sure he didn’t press against the boy’s ribs. “But it’s alright, I’ve been there before… so have you. Just be careful, alright? You’re stronger than you think, you have to be careful that you don’t…” _kill_ “… badly hurt anyone.”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Cloud managed to disentangle himself from Denzel just as the door slid open to reveal Angeal standing in the hall.“This is your son?” he asked once he had closed the door behind him, Cloud answering with a nod.

“Here.” Fishing the keycard out of his pocket, Cloud handed it to Denzel. “Wait out with the others.”

Once Denzel had left the room and the door had closed behind him, Cloud turned back to the bed, cleaning up the bloodied gauze and tissue paper that had been left behind. His only recollection of Angeal was the large man punching his sixteen-year-old self to the ground — then later finding out that he’d broken Zack’s heart not by taking his own life, but by cowardly forcing his student to kill him. Considering that, he had no desire to be amiable with the SOLDIER.

“I’m not sure I like how much you have been interfering with my soldiers.”

Cloud turned, regarding the other man with a look of false curiosity. He knew exactly Angeal meant, he just needed to draw it out. “Interfering?”

“You had no business coming down into their barracks.”

“As I understand it, the infantry are not under your command,” Cloud replied, barely able restrain the contempt in his voice. “However, all SOLDIERs from First Class to potential recruits _are_ my business.”

Angeal’s expression hardened. There was no denying what Cloud said was true, but there was no way the SOLDIER would back down. “And you just happened to visit the barracks that housed your son.”

“My son is _my damn business,_ ” Cloud growled, his eyes narrowing as he inched closer. Something was telling him that he was being foolish in trying to physically intimidate a man over half a foot taller than he was, but he had stopped listening to that something as soon as Angeal entered the room. “Leave him out of it.”

“You didn’t leave my student out of it,” Angeal snapped back.

“You’re mad at me because Zack was assigned to protect me, is _that_ what this is about?”

Angeal’s eyes narrowed, his body leaning forward to tower over Cloud. “No-”

“It sounds like it!” Cloud interrupted, earning himself a low growl from Angeal. He had never been on the bad side of the burly man before, but he could easily see that the reputation he had for being calm and reasonable did not extend to those he considered enemies. “If you can’t get over the fact that your student gets sent on missions then maybe-” _Maybe that was pushing it too far,_ Cloud thought briefly as the SOLDIER snapped, time seeming to slow down as Angeal’s hand, clenched tightly in a fist, sailed towards his face.

To Cloud’s eyes, the enhanced reflexes that mako gave was sort of like the ability to slow down time. Whether that was actually what happened was another matter, but as Angeal’s fist approached it seemed to come slower and slower until it looked more like the SOLDIER was trying to give him a fist bump than rearrange his nose.

Cloud held his hand up to block the blow, his own moves seeming sluggish to his enhanced senses. He poured his thoughts into his materia, concentric circles of energy radiating out from his palm as the Big Guard took effect, Angeal’s fist slamming into the powerful energy barrier. The haste component of the spell took effect and Cloud’s body was moving as fast as his reflexes allowed, ducking under the offending arm and twisting his body behind his opponent. Angeal spun around, slightly off-balance and unable to keep up with his magically enhanced speed, only to find the Cloud’s fist slamming into his chest, releasing a spell as it touched.

Tendrils of light enveloped Angeal, filling into a brightly covered shell that surrounded every part of his body. The light flashed briefly and just as soon disappeared, leaving behind nothing but faintly glowing particles of light where the SOLDIER had once stood, they too flickering and dying as they fell to the floor.

Cloud wrenched the door open and left the room, a frown on his face and black clouds swimming through his mind. As furious as he was at Angeal, wherever the SOLDIER ended up he was going to be in a worse mood and he didn’t want to have to deal with another fight. The Exit materia only really worked for getting you out of a fight you would rather not be in, or for removing someone else from a fight. Where they would end up, however, was entirely up to chance.

“Can I get two gurneys?” he asked the receptionist, trying to smooth the anger off his face. The man behind the counter was trembling slightly as he approached, so he tried to give the man a small smile.

That made it worse.

Cloud sighed and turned his back. “I need two of the boys transferred to hospital, they shouldn’t walk.”

He looked back along the waiting room, to where Denzel was holding on to his side as he sat down. The other boy who he suspected also had injured ribs was nowhere to be seen, most likely still with the other doctor. With any luck, he would be able to get out of there before Angeal came back, especially since he knew he wasn’t entirely innocent in the whole thing. Yet something was even more troubling about Angeal trying to hit him. He’d never really considered how he felt about the man — by the time he could be angry about what he had done, Angeal had been killed by Zack’s hand. From all of Zack’s stories about his mentor, it was uncharacteristic of the man to just lash out in anger like that.

Something else was going on with the man — this close to his defection, it could not be a coincidence. If only he had something more useful than a hunch — he would need to keep a close eye on Hewley.

An hour later Cloud was sitting behind a desk he had borrowed, one of the general offices in the hospital that doctors swapped in between while they were on call. He stared at the screen, or rather what was on it: the collection of x-rays that moments before had been taken from the suspected locations of breaks on the boys’ bodies. It was somewhat of a novelty to someone who had to be pushed to take the honorific of ‘doctor’ and on particularly low moments of self-esteem preferred ‘glorified paramedic’. Even on the rare occasions he could access a medical clinic, the machines were old and out of date, the newer machines having to be replaced with older and simpler models just because there was no infrastructure in their rebuilding society to support high-tech equipment.

_Bzzzzzzzzzzt._

The buzzing phone caught his attention as the inappropriately named silent mode rattled the case noisily against the desk. Picking up the phone, he flipped open the clamshell and put it to his ear.

“Hello?”

He smiled when the voice of Zack came through from the other end, hurriedly apologising that he wasn’t able to get back from the slums, quietly slipping in that there had been an accident before asking if Denzel was alright and if Angeal had made it on time.

Informing Zack that Denzel was being taken care of and Angeal had made it, though he tried not to make his feelings about that fact come through in his voice, Cloud then pressed the audibly squirming Zack on the nature of the accident. It took firm pressing and perhaps minor threats, but eventually he came through with the story.

After receiving Cloud’s message, Zack had immediately boarded a train back to the upper plate — the wrong one. Finding himself in a run down area of the slums with no outbound trains to take him back, he ended up wandering through the worst parts of Midgar, every person he asked for directions brushing him off or responding with outright hostility. He eventually came across a playground, where at the top of a moogle slide he found, in his words, the most beautiful girl imaginable.

“I think I see where this is going, Zack.” Cloud just grinned on the other end of the phone, trying to hold back an outright laugh. He could guess who the girl was, there must be some sort of cosmic force at work trying to bring them together.

_I’ll head back once I walk Aerith home, OK? Sorry I’ll be late, can you call the restaurant or something?_

“Aerith is her name, then?” Cloud smiled, of course it was. “I think I should stay with Denzel, anyway. Why don’t you take this Aerith to the dinner? You can use my tab.”

_Really?! Cloud, you’re the best!_

Holding his phone away from his ear to avoid damage from the excited yells, he calmed Zack down long enough to give him the details of the restaurant and how they should get there.

Hanging up the phone, Cloud turned back to the x-rays. In a way, he had hoped that Denzel had broken or fractured ribs, solely for the fact that it would take at least three months before he’d be back in training, let alone deployed to the field. It would even be possible that Shinra could discharge him from the army, which would suit his purposes even better; perhaps after a lengthy explanation, he could convince his mother to leave Nibelheim and take care of Denzel. She would be overjoyed to have a grandson and it would put them both out of danger.

Unfortunately, while he had a single cracked rib compared to the two broken ribs the other boy had sustained, it was already clear from the x-ray that the rib was starting to heal, less than two hours from when he had sustained it. The rib would be fully healed within three days, not three months. That would surely catch the unwelcome attention of Shinra if he didn’t manage to run interference.

Cloud closed down the program with a heavy sigh, conscious of the fact that sighing in defeat was something he had been doing a lot of lately. At least Denzel’s condition wasn’t something that the poor kid could entirely blame on himself, the Jenova cells and mako running through his body would not be in the same equilibrium as a SOLDIER and if the Jenova cells weren’t adequately held in check by mako, the baser aspects of the alien intelligence would start to gain control.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his phone and quickly scheduled in a reminder: the new injection he had put in place of injecting the current SOLDIERs with only natural, unrefined mako was a response to the Jenova imbalance, a treatment he would need to start Denzel on immediately. Hojo preferred to keep his experiments teetering on the edge of control, with regular shots of Jenova cells to keep them riding that thin line under the pretence of maintaining their abilities.

The signs of Denzel’s condition would gradually become more apparent as the treatments progressed, just another thing he was going to have to deal with. What would Tifa say about piling burdens on his shoulders? Something about him dragging along guilt over Aerith long enough that he’d worn out his guilt quota, probably.

_How long are you going to keep dragging it along with you?_

He smiled at the memory, almost imagining he could hear that soothing voice again. He hated to admit it, but it was a comfort he had grown to be fond of, even if he shouldn’t be letting himself rely on it.

Grabbing Denzel’s chart from the desk and cleaning up the papers, Cloud pushed aside his thoughts of the future-past and the people left behind. There was no going back, but Denzel’s optimism was not as misplaced as he first thought; they were a part of this world now, and he could make it better, for Denzel, for himself and for all the people he cared about.

But he needed to have his priorities, and the highest was taking care of his son.


	17. Damn those Turks!

**October 21 st, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Denzel had been discharged from the hospital late last night, following an uncomfortable confrontation between Cloud and the resident doctors. The boy had been through a rough few days, and Cloud wanted him to at least be comfortable in their new home instead of a sterile hospital ward. They had found three additional bedrooms on the second floor of the apartment when they explored it, sharing a bathroom and shower. Not incredibly useful to them, but he let Denzel pick the bedroom he wanted and sent the boy off to sleep, going to sleep himself once he’d determined that it was too late to do anything else useful.

He woke early the next day, dressing again in his casual clothes as the pre-dawn light gathered around the edges of the drawn curtains. He wanted his clothes as nondescript as possible, hoping to blend in to the rush hour crowds of Midgar — that was at least the upside of Denzel delaying his task by a day, the morning crowds were always easier to lose yourself in than the evening ones. Grabbing a plain grey hooded sweater, he wrapped it around himself and left the apartment, only stopping to leave a note for Denzel. He tucked his Shinra ID away and shoved his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of the headquarters into Sector 8 - the more like a teenager he looked, the better.

Sector 8 was one of the jewels in the crown of Midgar, the dazzling and fast paced entertainment district that provided a glitzy covering to the rust and squalor that literally lay beneath. Home to Loveless Avenue, playground to the rich and famous of the planet, where dreams could come true if you could afford their price tag. It was here that the entrance to the Shinra building was located, and Shinra pride demanded that it awe the public as much as the tower itself.

Navigating his way around the grand fountain in the middle of the square, Cloud continued his walk until he could spot his tail. Sector 8 was a training ground for Turks, their first missions often involving guarding the streets or trailing random people to practice their spying abilities. The Turk following him was no rookie, however, and apparently aware that the distinctive blue suit would give him away, he was keeping just out of Cloud’s line of sight — flashes of a blue sleeve or shoulder the only hints that he was there.

Spotting the stairs that would take him up to Sector 1, he veered off towards them, resisting his instinctive urges to glance back at the trailing Turk. It would be easier to lose his tail if he played the part of oblivious civilian, boring the Turk with an easy task until he found the right moment to disappear. Following behind a slow moving cluster of tourists, he trudged up the stairs, keeping with the chattering group as the made their way to the train station. He could have found any number of public telephones in Sector 8, but there would be too much risk his conversation would be overheard if someone was following him. He needed to lose the Turk and the train station was the first step — the stairs up were the only way to reach it and the Turk would be forced to show himself.

Reaching the train platform, Cloud took the opportunity to take a look around the station, noting not just the obvious fact that a train had not yet arrived, but that his Turk friend had yet to follow him up the stairs. Perhaps he wasn’t being followed after all? Taking a seat on one of the benches facing the entrance to the sector, he waited for the train, eyes flicking between buildings and windows to spot the flash of blue that would tell him if his opponent was better than he gave credit for.

No such brief evidence presented itself as he sat, jumpy and alert on the hard wooden slats. By the time his eyes had covered every dimly lit window and every shadow haunted alley, an ear-splitting whistle sounded to alert all that the train had arrived. Standing from the bench, he chanced another scan of his surroundings before joining the queue to board. Flashing his Shinra ID to the train manager, he shuffled ahead of those who were paying and entered the carriage.

_Clever,_ Cloud thought to himself as he spotted the blue suit hidden amongst the rows of already boarded passengers. There was no denying this Turk’s intentions, even behind thick red bangs and wide shades, the eyes were obviously following him as he took his seat at the opposite end of the carriage. Pulling out his phone, he made a show of flicking through his text messages until he could feel the train moving. Avoiding the gaze of the Turk, he pocketed his phone and left his seat, slipping through some standing passengers to reach the end of the carriage. Using the other passengers as cover, he briefly glanced back to see the Turk also getting up from his seat.

Sliding the door open just enough for him to squeeze through, he entered the other carriage only to find it annoyingly populated, though less so than the initial one he boarded on. Slamming the door shut behind him, he deftly navigated his way down to the back of the carriage, his sensitive ears picking up the sound of the first door opening just as he reached the second. Luckily, he found what he was looking for in the third carriage. Bereft of seats and carpet, this part of the train had been vandalised and thus stripped down, marked as out of order until the train stopped at the central station for repairs. Alone enough to use his enhanced speed, he sprinted in a blur to the sealed door, wrapping his fingers around the handle and wrenching the heavy steel door open.

Sound flooded the carriage, the constant roar of air rushing past drowning out all sounds but the steady chug of pistons driving the wheels and the numerous clacks as those wheels passed over new sections of track. With a firm grip on the outer handles, Cloud swung himself outside the train, scenery blurring past him in a streak of dull blue-brown bricks just an arms length away from his body. Stretching his arms past the open doorway, he yanked the door closed again, hoping he had completed his task quickly enough that his tail had been too far away to hear the unmistakable cacophony of an open carriage.

Looking up, he could see the low ceiling of the tunnel barely half his height above the train, not enough room to even crouch without risking a severe rearrangement of his head. No matter, it was not exactly the first time he had engaged in risky acrobatics on the outside of a train. Swinging his arm up to find any of the usual handholds, he pulled himself up to the roof, shimmying length-ways until he way lying down on the top of the train, hands wrapped tightly around the carriage vents. There was no way he could hear what was going on inside the carriage, deafened as he was by the roaring wind, so he could only imagine that the Turk was as confused about his disappearance as he hoped.

The tunnel came to an abrupt end and shortly he was travelling again out in the open. Spotting a convenient bridge up ahead, Cloud pulled himself into a crouch, yanking his hood over his head to cover up the distinctive blond spikes and yanking the cord tightly to secure it against the wind. Waiting for the locomotive to enter the tunnel he leapt into the air, the momentum of the train easily carrying him the distance to the bridge. Tumbling over the railing, he landed on the hard cobbles of the street, boots scraping loudly on the stones as he skid the entire length of the bridge, improbably coming to a stop at the opposite railing.

With a brief glance around at the staring bystanders, he pulled the hood even further down his head and sprinted off down the nearest alleyway, not wanting to attract any more attention than he had just lost.

After emerging from a connecting alleyway after a detour through several residential blocks — it wasn’t paranoia if _Turks_ were following you — he reappeared back on the street, wandering the various roads of the sector until he found a suitably abandoned public pay-phone. Pulling the door shut, he dropped a coin in the machine and dialled the number.

“Vincent.”

 

* * *

 

“You should just be glad you didn’t end up assaulting one of the members of executive board,” Sephiroth said as Angeal paced back on forth in his office. Sephiroth had become exceedingly concerned with his friend as he was regaled with the events of the day before. Barely a fortnight since Strife had shown up and already he was stirring up a whirlwind in Sephiroth’s usually quiet patch of turf.

“That’s not the point-”

“It is _exactly_ the point, Angeal!” Sephiroth cut him off with stern words, Angeal stopping his pacing to face his companion. “Somehow Strife is the one person that is able to provoke you, and he is not even provoking you. This is not the Angeal I know.”

Angeal frowned, annoyed but unable to refute his friend. “Why has this become about me?”

“Because I am more interested in what is happening with you than everyone in the Science Department combined.”

Angeal leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, smiling faintly. “Thanks, Sephiroth.”

“I am hardly the best psychiatrist, but let’s see…” Sephiroth folded his arms on the desk, leaning towards Angeal as he talked. “You have been keeping Zack off active duty ever since Genesis got injured. You’ve been even more protective since he left. Are you afraid of losing your student?”

“Very nice, cutting to the obvious. Of course I’m afraid of losing him, that’s just normal.”

“When you heard that he might have been involved in a plane crash, you blamed Strife for it. Even when he turned up fine, you did not stop blaming Strife.”

“Sephiroth!” Angeal snapped, running his hand through the back of his hair in irritation, before he caught himself and quickly snatched his hand away. It was a mannerism he had picked up off his student, something that was too embarrassing to be caught doing by his friends. “I don’t need useless pop psychology. I know I don’t have the best reasons to dislike the professor… though him being in the Science Department should be reason enough. I’ll deal with it.”

Sephiroth sighed. “Angeal, if you were dealing with it, you wouldn’t have tried to hit him.”

“Look, I’ll just stay away from him for a while,” Angeal said, only to quickly change the subject, “but the way he blocked that punch, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“New materia? That is what the Science Department does.” Sephiroth scratched his flawless chin with a gloved finger. “I could ask him about it.”

“Don’t trust him, Sephiroth. He has a lot of secrets.”

“This is Shinra, it is a company of secrets. Compared to Hojo, Strife is an open book.”

“That may be so, and it could just be a new materia. But how could he cast such a powerful materia? The results of an experiment?”

“It would seem likely.”

“It still doesn’t add up… what about his age?” Angeal started clicking his fingers softly as they continued talking, his mind trying to clutch a train of thought that was just out of his reach. “You said he was older than us, but he looks younger… but his son… his son was at least thirteen.”

Sephiroth hm’d thoughtfully for a moment, his fingers tapping gently on the desk as Angeal’s words triggered a similar thought in his head. “Hojo had a bad habit for someone in his position: incessant muttering. Stay around him long enough and you could find out anything you wanted to know.” Feline eyes flicked up from their vague wandering to pin Angeal down. “Occasionally I would hear him talk about someone who had crossed him years ago, that he had sealed underground in a body that never aged.”

“No wonder he’d want to kill Hojo, then.”

“No wonder he wouldn’t tell anyone,” Sephiroth added.

Angeal looked up, returning Sephiroth’s gaze with a half-hearted glare. “Don’t tell me you want me to feel sorry for him.”

“No,” Sephiroth replied, shaking his head. “I want you to apologise to him, even if I have to lock you both in a room to get you to do it.”

“Apologise?” Angeal pushed himself away from the wall, his voice rising in indignation before he stopped himself. “You’re right,” he said with a sigh and slow shake of his head. “I should.” He leaned back against the pale wallpaper. “But on one condition.”

“Hm?” Sephiroth asked, not even bothering to dignify the demand with words.

“Keep looking into him. If I’m wrong, I’ll leave him alone. But if I’m right…”

“You don’t even know what it is you would be right about. But I agree, it is worth finding out. I even have something that may help.”

“What is it?”

“A paper crossed my desk this morning,” Sephiroth explained, flicking through a pile of manila folders on his desk until he found the relevant one. “A cross-department effort is being put in place to shut down ‘obsolete Shinra outposts’.”

Angeal walked back to the desk, taking the proffered folder and curiously leafing through the contained pages. “Military personnel with top sensitive information scores… working with Turks… instructions not to handle any documents,” he read off the list of familiar keywords from the paper with a distinct lack of surprise. “So they’re putting together cover-up teams.”

“A lot of cover-up teams,” Sephiroth nodded, reaching over the desk to point to a paper that was of particular interest. “Look who is in command.”

“Officers will report to Tseng and Tseng will report to… Strife.” Dropping the folder back on to the desk, Angeal leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Although… why Tseng? Why go over the head of the leader of the Turks?”

“Veld is not the only one to be left out — so have I.”

Angeal blinked in shock. “You’ve been left out? How does that even work?”

“I am to provide the soldiers, but the mission will be classified to me,” Sephiroth replied.

“I told you. This isn’t good, Sephiroth.”

“Perhaps not. It is not unexpected for the Science Department to be… unusually classified.”

“So what do we do?”

“I have a list of sites that Strife wants to be purged,” Sephiroth explained, sliding another piece of paper over to Angeal, this one obviously a photocopy of an official document. “These sites must hold something he doesn’t want us to know.”

Angeal smiled, his eyes scanning the list of locations on the paper. “So we need to get there first.”

“Exactly.”


	18. Sky-Blue Eyes

**October 23 rd, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“I can’t believe he came with us,” Denzel said, turning his head and averting his eyes as the needle slid into the back of his hand.

“I was surprised too,” Cloud said. Cutting off a small piece of tape, Cloud pressed it over the needle, attaching it firmly to the skin. “I called him two days ago, just after you got out of hospital,” he explained as he cleaned up the remains of the equipment, unbuckling the cuff from Denzel’s bicep. “We couldn’t really talk much on the phone. He said it’d take him another week or two to get here, I guess he has things to do on the way.”

Denzel giggled softly. It appeared the sedative was having at least some effect. “He always says he has important stuff to do. I bet he just runs off and broods on rooftops.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Now, are you sure about this, Denzel? You should know by now that SOLDIER isn’t all it seems.”

“I know,” the boy said, nodding along. “But… you said it yourself. I have half of it already. So, I might as well get some benefit out of it, right?”

“It’s… this isn’t what I wanted for you.”

“I know, dad.”

Cloud smiled. He never worked out why, but it always gave him a warm feeling whenever Denzel called him ‘dad’ rather than ‘Cloud’. Though that was at odds with what he was about to do. He’d promised to protect the boy, not to turn him into a monster.

He hesitated, the needle on the mako drip barely a hair’s breadth away from Denzel’s skin. With a resigned sigh, he pushed the needle into the vein.

“Can you feel it?” he asked once the mako had started flowing down the tube.

Denzel nodded, absently tracing his finger over the slowly discoloured veins that were appearing on his forearm, the lines a shy pattern of softly glowing green. “It feels funny,” he said, giggling slightly as he pressed down on a large vein, the glow intensifying as the mako pooled under his skin.

“I’ll have to get you moved to a SOLDIER unit,” Cloud said.

“So I’ll get to be in SOLDIER for real?”

Cloud nodded. “It’s gonna look bad though, they’ll think you got into SOLDIER just because you’re my son.”

“That’s kinda true though, right?”

“You might get picked on for it.”

“I’ll be careful. I’ll be a SOLDIER, anyway. It was your dream, right?”

Cloud shook his head. “Not anymore. I think growing up’s about knowing which dreams it’s better to let go of.”

Denzel nodded at that, though it felt like he was just doing it to please Cloud. It didn’t really matter if he understood yet, the tales he heard were very different to the reality they now faced. He’d learn in time. “Just remember that-”

_Knock_ _knock._

They both turned to the door just before it opened, Cloud rising from his kneeling position as a woman in a lab coat was revealed in the doorway.

“Doctor Rayleigh,” Cloud greeted, his memory and her current appearance matching up almost perfectly. She was a tall woman, standing at least a few inches above himself, her soft brown hair tied neatly back into a ponytail.

“Please.” She smiled back, eyes briefly scanning the room before her gaze fell on Denzel, then back to Cloud. “Call me Evelyn. I hope I’m not interrupting?”

“We’re just about done here, Doc… Evelyn,” Cloud replied, turning back to Denzel to finish the procedure. He had to wonder, with the knowledge that he held now, why exactly Hojo had used the methods he did for enhancing humans with mako. He had not experienced the most common one, but Zack had told him the experience was not pleasant, a syringe full of concentrated mako injected straight into your bloodstream, at levels where the green substance acted more like a potent acid than the life-giving blood of the planet. The one he had experienced was the mako tank, being literally drowned in the liquid, locked in a glass cage with no escape as the tank was slowly filled, until there was no more air and your lungs gave out. The burning liquid would seep into your eyes, fill your nose and burn down past your throat no matter how much you choked until your lungs were nothing more than two sacs swelling with pain.

He glanced at Doctor Rayleigh, who had taken to leaning casually against the wall while he finished up with Denzel. If he remembered correctly — admittedly that was asking a lot of himself — she had something to do with the SOLDIER program… he just didn’t know what. In any case, it was likely his new assistant had been involved with Hojo in some way.

Hojo. Maybe it was sadism or apathy — the man either enjoyed the pain he was inflicting on his subjects, or he just didn’t care, as long as he got his results. At least it did not matter anymore, the twice dead mad professor would have no new victims to inflict his particular brand of suffering on. He pulled out some strips of tape, securing the tubing further up Denzel’s arm before hooking the bag and the infusion pump on to one of the portable IV stands.

“Here,” Cloud said once he had hastily scribbled out a note and signed and signed it, “show this to your sergeant. Just make sure the line doesn’t get tangled and try to keep walking around and talking until it drains, then you can sleep.”

Denzel nodded as he took the note, his eyes briefly scanning the instructions before he folded it and shoved it in his pocket. “A SOLDIER needs to watch me?”

“If possible,” Cloud said, nodding. “Best to have someone who’s been through it before.”

“Ok.” Denzel nodded once more before sliding out of the chair, one hand gripping the IV stand as he wheeled it to the door. “Thank you… sir,” he added after a quick glance at Doctor Rayleigh.

Cloud tried to resist the urge to hug the boy as he left, or ruffle his hair or any other number of embarrassing father moves. He glanced at Rayleigh as the door swung closed. Yes, the fewer people that knew the better.

“So you’re my new assistant,” Cloud said as he started cleaning up the supplies.

“That’s right… sir,” she added quickly. “Do you always wear a suit when checking patients?”

“I’ll put a lab coat on if it’s messy,” he said back, snapping off the examination gloves and dumping them in the bin. “Let’s go to my office,” he added, stalking straight past the woman and out the door, Rayleigh following on his heels as quickly as she could.

“Are you always this brusque with people?” she asked as they reached the elevator, Cloud jamming the button to go up.

“Usually… yes.” Not that he cared how he came off to people. He was pretty short with most of his friends, so strangers got the extra abrupt end of the stick. She would get used to it. “Did you ever work with Hojo?”

“A few times,” she replied, following Cloud into the elevator. “I was recently assigned to the SOLDIER project, but Hojo wasn’t exactly the open sort.”

_“Cloud, move!”_

_“I can’t do that! If we make any sudden moves, Doctor Rayleigh’s in danger.”_

_“Move!”_

It had been barely a month away from his fifteenth birthday, not long after he had met Zack for the first time on the disastrous mission to Modeoheim. He was stationed at Junon at the time, so when a mission had come up to escort one Doctor Rayleigh in Midgar, he fought tooth and nail to get assigned. Anything he could do to get back to his mourning friend.

It didn’t work out quite how he hoped. As soon as their troop carrier had arrived in Midgar they were met by the Turks and quickly ushered on to a train to meet up with the doctor. It had not been a successful mission: Cloud had been the only survivor amongst the infantry, Doctor Rayleigh had nearly been killed and whatever it was that she was carrying had fallen into enemy hands. At least he got two week’s downtime in Midgar out of it, time he mostly got to spend with Zack as the older SOLDIER was only on voluntary missions.

“We’re here,” Rayleigh said with an amused smile, knocking Cloud out of his thoughts. “Is it a requirement for Science Department heads to space out all the time? No wonder I didn’t get the job.”

“You don’t want to know what the requirements are.”

“Hello, sir!” Cloud looked behind them to see Elena walking down the corridor, papers stacked under one arm as the other waved enthusiastically at them. “Oh… Doctor Rayleigh, hello!”

“Elena.” Cloud almost sighed the greeting as they both turned around. “We’ll be having a meeting in my office, so… hold my calls, or something.”

Ushering Rayleigh into his office, he sat her down in one of the chairs.

“You seemed to recognise me earlier,” she said as she sat down. “Did we meet before?”

Cloud shook his head. “No, just… your name was familiar…”

“Oh— maybe you saw my first paper? Rayleigh scattering, it explains why the sky is blue.” She smiled proudly back at him. “I wrote it with my father — it’s not just the scattering of sunlight, but any light travelling through transparent medium…”

He fought the urge to bang his head against the desk. This was going to be a long meeting.

 

* * *

 

Cloud sighed, leaning against the wall of the elevator with his hands shoved into his pockets as the car rumbled down to take him home. Doctor Rayleigh was not only smarter than him but also a knowledgeable scientist, someone who knew her field of physics so well that it would be nearly impossible to convince her that he had any credentials at all. He had mostly been able to get out of any serious scientific discussion by explaining that he was a physician and that he only had basic knowledge outside of his field, but that would only last for so long.

Upon reaching his house, he opened the door, chuckling softly as it revealed black spikes poking out from the end of the couch. At least there were still a few people he could talk to in this life that he didn’t have to be completely fake with. “Zack,” he said, shrugging off his jacket as he kicked the door closed behind him, “how did you get in?”

“I was looking after Denzel, but he was getting tired from the mako. We came up here to get him some sleep,” came the reply from behind the couch. Some brief rustling, then the television was switched off. “Sorry I haven’t been around, Angeal’s been frantic about getting ready for Wutai.”

Cloud didn’t say anything at the mention of Angeal, just leaned against the chair opposite Zack.

“You know,” Zack said, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table, “you and Angeal in a fight is the last thing I would have guessed.”

“It wasn’t much of a fight,” he said, picking up his coat and leaving for the bedroom. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop an interrogation over Angeal, but he could try. “I’m going to get changed.”

“Still don’t like the monkey suit, huh? Looks good on you, though.” Zack grinned

“Thanks,” Cloud replied, shrugging his shoulders at the odd compliment before disappearing into his room, quickly shucking his clothes and throwing them on to the bed. Zack thought they… looked good on him? Maybe it was a subtle hint, Zack had just found himself a girlfriend, one with a remarkable track record of persuading Cloud to do things he really did not want to do. Pulling his t-shirt over his head, he winced at the scary thought. If Aerith started rubbing off on Zack, he could easily see himself being dressed up and shoved into dates he didn’t want just so Aerith would have another couple to double date with. At least it’d be _suits_ she’d be dressing him in this time.

Pulling on a pair of jeans, he returned to the lounge to find Zack still lazing comfortably in front of the TV. Speaking of Aerith, he still hadn’t been able to talk to Zack about that night…

“So, how did your date go?” he asked, leaning against the side of the couch.

“It was nice,” Zack replied, twisting his head so he could see Cloud, “I’m going to meet up with her on the weekend. Just as friends, though.”

“Just as friends?” Cloud asked, the shocked look on his face taking Zack by surprise.

“Yeah, I told her that I really like her, but there’s someone else I’m interested in. Didn’t want to lead her on, y’know?”

“Someone else?”

Zack grinned. “You’re pretty dense for an egghead, Cloud.”

“I’m confused. I’m supposed to know who it is?”

“Of course,” pushing himself up from his seat, Zack closed the distance between the two of them, one hand gently holding the back of Cloud’s head as he pressed his lips against Cloud’s, a brief kiss that was barely more than chaste before Cloud pulled away.

“Zack, I…” Cloud mumbled, wrapping his fingers around the hand buried in the messy spikes at the back of his head and gently pushing it away. Despite all of Zack’s outward confidence, he could feel the nervous tremors in that hand even before he pushed it back against its owner’s chest.

Zack smiled, dropping his hand back to his side once it had been released. “Does that answer your question?”

“I- uh…” Cloud stammered, his mind reeling from the brief kiss, the shock and _Zack_ , still inside his personal space, despite his brave smile looking like his heart was hanging from a delicate thread that Cloud was holding on to. _He’s supposed to be with Aerith. That’s how it’s meant_ _to be_. “Aerith?” he asked, his coherent question broken down into a single word somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

“I told you,” Zack said, his fingers tentatively reaching out to touch Cloud’s forearm, wrapping around a solid bicep once his courage was bolstered by not being pushed away. He may have been significantly taller, but he still felt so small next to Cloud. “It’s _you_ I like. Aerith is nice, but I _felt_ something that night in the cave. Didn’t you, Cloud?”

“No- Zack, I had no idea,” Cloud said, shaking his head slowly. “I never thought of you that way. I didn’t know that you-” _Aerith, Aerith, Aerith,_ his mind kept chanting. Each time he saw them, in the lifestream or his mind or wherever it was that the flower girl would yank him to when she wanted a chat, wherever she was, he could always feel Zack close by. Had he ruined that for them? _Aerith’s gonna kill me if I turned Zack gay_. “Zack, you’re so much younger than I am. I’ve never thought about you like…”

“I understand. You’re not- I’m sorry,” Zack said softly, his shoulders slumping. “I shouldn’t have- I should go.”

“Zack,” Cloud tried to say, his voice caught somewhere in his mind as the SOLDIER turned to leave. For a moment, the background changed to a dusty road winding around rocky cliffs, his vision blurring green at the edges.

“Zack!” his mind screamed, his hand stretching out to try and grasp those broad shoulders, but falling down unseen. His vision spiked green and he was falling, pain lancing through his mind like a sword, a sword as strong, as sharp and as tall as the man wielding it.

_Ohhhh…_ he heard groan from one of the few corners of his mind not being sliced through. _My head._

“Zack!” he cried again, his vision barely holding on to the outline of reality. More than anything, he wanted his friend to hold him, to have his shoulder clasped or his hair ruffled and told that everything would be alright because bad things never happen to good people. Not romantic feelings that he couldn’t return ruining his relationship with someone he loved like a brother.

“Your eyes…” he heard someone say, but when he looked around, all he could see was white.


	19. Lifestream

**October? ??, [ μ ] – εγλ ????**

White… nothing but white stretching as far as he could see. No horizon, no sky and no earth, just white. Whether it was the lifestream or some far corner of his mind, he had been pulled here often enough against his will that it should not have been surprising when he once again found himself standing on solid nothingness, surrounded by… white.

His memories had scattered, as they always did when Aerith dragged his mind a million psychic miles from his body to impart some piece of cryptic wisdom that was no better than the nyuk nyuk’s they received from the Ancients at the Temple. So then, why was he here? He could vaguely remember fading memories of Zack’s death, the haze of mako poisoning and the helplessness as his mind screamed out for his friend but his body just refused to listen. There had been a searing pain in his mind, like a flaming spike driven into his brain.

“Who are you?”

Cloud turned, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. That answered that question. Before him was a young teenage girl, demurely clad in an ankle length blue and white dress, her rich brown hair pulled back in a thick braid that draped down below her waist.

“Aerith,” he said, the twitching turning into a full blown smile before the question had caught up with his brain. “My name is Cloud.”

“You…” The word came out in a breath gasp, leaving her stumbling slightly as her foot took a step back without informing her brain. “He said… You… Hojo…”

“I won’t hurt you,” Cloud soothed, edging closer with all the cautiousness one would give a startled kitten. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

“Zack said you were nice…” She did not retreat any further, though neither did she look at Cloud, keeping her eyes firmly on the nothingness surrounding her feet. “But he doesn’t know what you want.”

Zack was talking about him during their date? That was weird. “How about we make a deal?” he said, gathering her hands up in his own. “If I want anything from you, I’ll ask… and you can say no.”

Aerith nodded, letting her hands slip from his loose grasp before she looked him in the eye. “You don’t look like a scientist.”

Cloud blinked, puzzled for a moment before he looked down to find he was wearing his heavy black woollen shirt and tough combat pants, the handle of First Tsurugi and a single pauldron visible out of the corner of his eye. “I guess not,” he said after a short chuckle, fingers that had long missed the feel of the sword wrapping around the handle. The real outfit was locked away in the back of a storage locker he had rented in the slums of Midgar, along with the rest of the equipment he hadn’t risked taking to Shinra with him.

“Where are we?”

“I think it’s the Lifestream. You haven’t been here before?”

“In my dreams, I would hear my mother’s voice. I remember white trees and a stairway made of light…” she let out a soft gasp as their surroundings shifted and they were standing on a great spiral staircase, each step barely visible but for a pale violet glow. The stairs ended far below them, leading into a great castle with enormous crystal walls of varying heights, a few great spires reaching far above the staircase itself. “I would be walking down the stairs as she talked to me,” she continued, her voice increasing in excitement and wonder as she bounded down the staircase, Cloud following silently behind her as she talked and ran. This place was never a dream for him, always a nightmare. “There was an altar below, surrounded by water…”

At least somewhat more used to the ways of the ethereal dreamscape, Cloud placed his hand on Aerith’s shoulder to stop her stumbling as the scenery swirled and changed around them once again, starting with the stone beneath their feet expanding out until it had formed into the circular altar on which they stood, the surrounding water and castle coalescing into existence shortly after.

“I knew this place was important,” she said, looking out over the calm lake to the looming spires of stone and crystal. “But I never understood why.”

“It was once a city of the Ancients,” he explained, carefully avoiding the reason he knew it was important, “but it has been forgotten for two thousand years.”

Aerith turned back to regard Cloud, her eyes roving over his face as if it could contain some key to his mystery. “You’ve been here before,” she accused.

Cloud nodded. The lifestream or the city, the answer was the same for both.

“Are you an Ancient?” she asked.

Cloud shook his head. “No, I’m just a man,” he replied with a small amount of pride. Not SOLDIER, not monster, not puppet. Just a man.

Aerith frowned, the hope in her face leaving behind confusion as it left. “I thought only Cetra could hear the planet.”

But, those that disliked the journey appeared. Those who stopped their migrations built shelters and elected to lead an easier life. Words spoken in spite that he remembered but hadn’t heard. “Humans were Cetra once, too. Sometimes we can hear it again, if we try.”

“Humans… were once Cetra,” she paused, almost looking like she was trying to decide if the idea appealed to her or not. “How do you know so much?”

Cloud smiled. “I had some very wise people teach me.”

“So who are you, really?”

“He is my successor,” came a voice from just out of their sight, both of them turning to find a short man standing in a long beige overcoat that seemed to blend in and blur around the edges, the background flowing into the fabric. His lip was covered by what could only be described as a bushy walrus moustache, tiny spectacles balanced on the end of his nose giving the impression of a stereotyped academic. “Much more worthy than Hojo, I must say.”

“Professor Gast. You haven’t joined the lifestream?” Cloud blinked at the wavering image of the long dead scientist, the constant shifting and warping straining his eyes.

“I have my lovely wife to thank for that,” Gast replied, his eyes settling on Aerith. “I wanted the chance to talk to my daughter for the first and last time.”

“Daughter?” Aerith stammered, her breath catching in her throat. “You’re my…” The scenery once again shifted before she could finish her sentence, both Gast and Aerith fading with the altar and lake, leaving Cloud alone once more in the endless sea of white.

“Let them have some privacy,” a voice from behind him said. Did everyone who inhabited the lifestream really need to keep appearing up behind people’s backs?

Cloud turned to see the new arrival. He had not seen her before in person, only in the videos that Gast had left behind, Gast’s murder at the hands of Hojo and the kidnapping of the infant Aerith and her mother. The grainy video did not do her justice, dressed in a flowing scarlet dress with a sash of red ribbon, the rich chestnut hair that Aerith had inherited fanning behind her like a shimmering cloak. “You are Ifalna.”

She nodded gently at him and gave the slightest upward curl of her lips, a gesture that was hauntingly familiar. It took a shake of his head to remember that Aerith had only gone to meet her father, that he was not seeing her smile from the world beyond.

“Do you know why I am here?” he asked. “Why Aerith is here?”

“The Calamity has woken, and her anger is spreading through the lifestream like a disease,” she said. “A small number of surviving Cetra defeated Jenova, and confined her. The Planet created guardians to protect itself, but with Jenova contained they were no longer needed, and slumbered beneath the surface.”

“Weapon.” Cloud sighed at the word and the memory, the longest and most gruelling battles he had ever fought were against the Weapons, battles of endurance lasting for hours as they threw every possible resource they had against the towering beasts. Yet even with all the power, strength and determination they could muster it was only through sheer luck that they had eventually defeated them all. “Is that why I am here, the Weapons are waking up?”

“The Weapons are stirring, but they have not yet woken,” Ifalna said, shaking her head. “No, the Calamity cried out to her children, to call them to her. You resisted, and she lashed out.”

“Reunion,” he said with an involuntary shudder, wishing there were something in this blank canvas he could sit down on, or lean upon for support. “So my mind shut down my body before it could be controlled?”

“I do not know,” Ifalna replied, shaking her head. “If you can resist her, then you know more than the Cetra ever did.”

“Will the Weapons attack the cities if they wake up?” Cloud asked. If they didn’t know about Jenova, at least they could tell him about the Weapons.

“They will seek out anything that is a threat to the Planet,” she said. “They will seek Jenova above all.”

“What if they can’t find her, or if they destroy her?” His shoulders slumped, the scenarios once again playing through his mind. Sephiroth had fooled the Weapons before, so that instead of attacking the immediate threat to the Planet, they had instead besieged human cities all over the world. “Will they attack the cities then?”

Ifalna furrowed her brow, a look of concentration brewing on her face as her form shifted, blurring into white then green and back again. Cloud could hear the hushed whispers at the edges of his mind, the millions of voices of the lifestream struggling to be heard. “The Weapons are not mere automatons, bent to the will of the Planet,” she replied, her form solidifying back to normal. “They decide what is and what is not a threat to the Planet, we do not know how they will judge humans.”

“Badly, I would think,” came Gast’s voice from the nothingness, the wisps of white coalescing once again into his form. “If they are judging threats, then humans would be just as bad as Jenova.”

“I don’t understand,” Aerith said, her own form smoothly transitioning out of the white. Curiously, she appeared behind Cloud, small hands clinging to his arm as she faced the ghosts of her parents. “Why would the Planet destroy humans?”

“The Planet cares only about staying alive,” Gast explained, adjusting the glasses on his nose. “If she dies, then so does everything that lives on her. The loss of humans would be a small price to pay to keep alive an entire world full of life.”

“The Planet does care,” said Ifalna, shaking her head as she contradicted her husband. “But she is so very big, and we are so very small. When she has to act, it can cause great destruction she never intended. That is why there are Cetra, to help her with the finer details.”

“How can we destroy Jenova?” Cloud asked, glancing to his side at Aerith. He wondered what would make her seek his body for comfort over her parents, but dared not ask.

“If the Cetra knew, then she would have been destroyed,” Ifalna said. She frowned, shifting on her feet before the white around her blurred and just like that, she was gone.

“I know you have more questions, but you cannot stay here,” Gast said, looking to the spot where his wife had disappeared. “Be careful of Shinra, Cloud. I thought I could change it, too.”

“You were part of the problem,” Cloud said, narrowing his eyes at the scientist. It was Gast’s name on the Jenova project, Hojo merely continued his work. “Sephiroth was… made under your watch.”

Gast gave out a heavy sigh that spoke of years of tormented guilt. “Left to their own devices, good people will do good things and evil people will do wicked things. But to get a good person to do wicked things, well, that’s the specialty of Shinra Corporation.” With that, he too disappeared into the white.

“Well, Cloud, it was nice meeting you.” Aerith chuckled, releasing her hold on his arm as they both felt the world fade, the white closing in on them.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the world had already disappeared and no words came out. His vision was black and his limbs heavy, each twitch of his muscles registering nothing but a crushing weight pinning him down to the ground.


	20. Countdown

**October 23 rd, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Worked out how he keeps giving us the slip, yet?”

Tseng leaned back in his chair. Something was telling him that Reno already knew, and that more than anything was infuriating. “We know he is incredibly proficient with materia.”

“So was Hojo. But he never got one over on the Turks.”

“That we know of,” Tseng said. He could still remember Veld’s warning when he was a rookie Turk. The haunted look in such an experienced and dangerous man was impossible to forget. Hojo had gotten to Veld’s partner, and now it was looking like Strife had gotten to Rude’s.

His meeting with Rude had been less than productive, with the taciturn man agreeing in principle to keep an eye on Reno, but not divulging any unusual behaviour. As far as Rude could tell, Reno had not had any more contact with Strife after Nibelheim.

Reno grumbled. “You’re not going to ask me to sleep with him, are you?”

“No,” Tseng said, shaking his head. “Our contacts have just informed us that he’s not inclined that way.”

That seemed to surprise Reno, and Tseng was left wondering why. More secrets that were being kept from him. “You know otherwise?”

“Nah, I, uh…” Reno laughed, scratching the back of his head. “I just assumed, really.”

“We can no longer afford assumptions,” Tseng warned. “You should return to trying to get close to Strife. Just… not too close.”

 

* * *

 

“Cloud,” he heard whispered softly somewhere off in the distance.

His eyes lightened, the weight lifting off long enough for him to open them to the harsh glare of white light. Not a peaceful white, like the soothing landscape of the lifestream, but a piercing fluorescence that seeped through his eyes to directly assault his brain.

“Cloud!” he heard the voice again, this time coming from a large dark blur hovering directly in front of him. He was lying down, his body instantly recognised as he moved his arm, finding that the oppressive weight holding him down felt like cotton, crisp and warm. His slowly returning mind was telling him he was in a bed, albeit one he did not recognise and in a room that had no right being as bright or as painful as it was. Shuffling himself backwards, he pushed the sheet down only to frown, confused when the cold breeze blew against his naked body. No, not naked… he was wearing his underwear, and not a breeze either — no, it was artificial, air conditioning circulating the uncomfortable cold through the room.

“Zack?” he asked as the world focused into view, dark hedgehog spikes first catching his eye, followed by the unmistakable trail of dried tears over graceful cheeks. Zack was sitting at his bedside, at his hospital bedside, and he had been crying. Had Zack been crying because he had been hurt?

As soon as he had said the name he found himself with an armful of overjoyed teenager, arms wrapped tightly around his bare chest and the weight of the boy pressing him down into the bed as Zack mumbled something so quickly and incoherently he couldn’t catch a word of it. “Zack, you’re supposed to be talking to me, not my pillow,” he said with a weak chuckle. His mind finally started catching up… he had been in his apartment, then the lifestream, now the hospital…

“Sorry,” Zack said with a sheepish grin, pulling back from the hug. “I was just so worried!” He snatched his hands away from Cloud’s torso with a blush once he realised he had been holding bare skin.

Cloud frowned at the embarrassed retraction of hands. Zack would never have cared if he were naked before giving a hug, probably delighting in the squawk of protest it would have drawn out from his younger self. But Zack was a teenage boy, and hopefully would get over the crush quickly if Cloud did not encourage it. He just wished it had never been there in the first place to get in the way of their friendship.

“I’m fine, Zack. How long was I out?” he asked, not wanting to bring the issue up. He would have preferred not to remember the mortifying kiss.

“Uh… about an hour.” The teenager turned to briefly glance at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, just over an hour.”

“Alright.” Cloud swung his legs over the bed, and giving a few stretches to test their strength, dropped to the floor. “Where are my clothes?”

Zack shrugged. “The nurses took them off, I don’t know where they put them.”

Cloud glanced around the room, briefly considering sending Zack to go get them. While he was nowhere near as body shy as he had been as a teenager, he still wasn’t the sort of person to have spiky black hair and parade around the hospital in his underpants. Spotting one of the standard lime green patient robes hanging on the back of the door, he draped it over himself and left the room, Zack following close behind if the sound of heavy combat boots hitting the floor were any indication.

“Cloud, are you sure you should be up? You were just…”

“I’m fine, Zack,” he said, cutting Zack off as they came up to the nurses station. He had himself discharged from the hospital, much to the consternation of both Zack and the nurse in charge. Normally he would agree that a patient shouldn’t be checking out without being seen by a doctor first but this was, of course, different. He knew exactly what had caused his collapse, and did not have time to wait for normal procedure. If the Weapons were waking because of Jenova, he had precious little time to stop it, especially if he didn’t know exactly how much time he had.

The nurse came back with his personal effects and a clipboard of forms to sign. Hastily scribbling his signature at the bottom of each page, he took the bag of clothes from the nurse and hurried back to the hospital room. Zack waited timidly outside as Cloud threw off the gown and quickly dressed himself back in the casual clothes he had been wearing. Dumping the rest of the bag on the bed, he gathered up his ID badge, wallet and cellphone, dumping the former two in his pockets and quickly checking over the latter.

His mind, working overdrive since he had woken up, had thought up three important things he needed to do. First, Denzel was likely to have suffered the same effects as he had if he resisted Jenova’s call. Denzel had been sleeping in their apartment when he passed out.

“Zack,” he asked as he left the room to find the SOLDIER leaning against the wall. “Do you know if Denzel’s alright?”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t let me in because I wasn’t family,” Zack said, pushing himself away from the wall. “He came down with me, but the little guy was tired. I took him back to sleep and said I’d call when you woke up.”

Cloud nodded, relieved that at least Denzel had woken up, rather than being lost somewhere in his own mind. That left the second and third tasks, finding Jenova as soon as possible and preparing to fight the Weapons in case they failed.

“I need you to find Sephiroth and Angeal, then meet me in my office.” He did not want to rely on them, but he had only defeated the Weapons with his team of powerful friends. There was no choice, he needed allies… or at least, people to fight Weapon with him. “Tell them it’s important, they need to meet with me.”

“Cloud…” Zack stopped his walk, his words coming out in a breath of confusion. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Jenova, Zack…” Cloud explained, stopping only briefly to impart the warning to his friend before he walked out, leaving Zack alone in the hospital lobby. “Don’t mention that name, but something big is coming.”

 

* * *

 

Cloud shoved his hands in his pockets, the corridors moving past in a nondescript blur as he walked by, deep inside his own head. What to tell Sephiroth and Angeal, what to tell his employees in the Science Department, what to tell the President and the executive board. He needed each of them onside, each of them needing different amounts of information than the other. Sephiroth and Angeal might react well to the “Planet is in danger and now pissed off” argument, but badly to the news of Jenova. The President would be the opposite.

He sighed, kicking the floor petulantly as he entered the executive elevator. His hand was being forced, and for all the planning he would like to be doing, he was just simply reacting to the events that were being thrown his way. Just this once, this time around, he had been hoping that he would be able to have some control.

The elevator eventually dinged and he followed the corridor down to his office, checking the names off as he went. Vincent would be too far out, but he would at least be helpful in battle when he arrived. The Turks would possibly be of help in finding Jenova, if they weren’t already investigating after the orders to shut down the research sites came through.

Out of habit, he nodded to Elena as he entered his office, only realising she was not there once he had looked up from his cellphone. He stopped at her desk, checking the clock on the wall — 9pm. He pondered calling her in, but quickly decided it would be easier if he did not have to worry about the Turks hearing any of his conversations. Grabbing the pile of folders relating to the research sites, he shoved the door to his office open and got to work.

Each one of the folders was likely to be interesting, if he had enough time to read them all. Detailed photographs, floor plans and investigative reports that provided their best guess as to what research was being conducted at each site. He had only covered half a dozen in detail since the reports had come in yesterday, but now he was just looking for something specific in the reports. He would have known if Jenova turned up, or if any of the sites were still being used, but it was harder to tell if anything was missing, especially anything specific. However, a mako tank or any equivalent equipment that could hold her would not be easy to steal with subtlety…

_Ring ring._

Sighing at the interruption, he grabbed his phone from his pocket, briefly checking the incoming call before he answered. “Zack,” he greeted, the brief annoyance he felt seeping away as soon as he saw the name.

_Cloud, I can’t find them,_ Zack’s voice came through the speaker, bordering on panic. _I just thought he was busy today…_

“What?” Cloud asked, frowning. He hadn’t been that long.

_Angeal and Sephiroth never checked in this morning and they’re not answering their phones. They’ve been missing since last night._


	21. Good Night, Until Tomorrow

**October 23 rd, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

The door closed behind him, the sharp click of electronic locks snapping back into place. Cloud stood in the entrance, eyes adjusting to the darkness. If Denzel was still feeling poorly after his injection, he did not want to disturb him by turning on the lights. Shrugging his shoes off at the door, he made his way as quietly as possible to the stairs, feet softly patting against the carpet as he walked. He stopped at the bottom, one hand on the rail as he peered into the hallway above, his eyes detecting the faintest glow of light bouncing off the walls. Was Denzel still up?

He took the stairs slowly, the task of trying not to make any sound as he climbed made difficult by the pliant wood, each one threatening to creak as he shifted his weight. The source of the light was obvious once he reached the top, a faint white light emerging from the doorway at the far end of the hall. He gripped his armband, his materia glowing a soft green under his shirt as blue flames formed around his forearm, the beginnings of a spell licking and cracking in the air. The light was not coming from Denzel’s room, but the office where they had stored the books taken from Hojo’s library in Nibelheim. His hearing picked up the faint traces of rustling paper… if someone was after the books…

He crept towards the door, footsteps light as he approached, the walls glowing and flickering a soft blue pattern in time with the flames around his arm. Carefully placing his hand on the handle, he readied his hand to throw the spell and pushed the door open, his body half shielded by the wooden door as he pressed into the room, one flaming hand held high.

Denzel started in his seat at the office desk as the door was swung open, his eyes widening as they locked on to the flickering blue flames.

“What are you doing up?” Cloud sighed in relief, the flames fading into nothingness as he lowered his hand.

“I slept all afternoon,” Denzel said, standing nervously from his chair like a schoolboy trying to explain his actions after being caught by teacher. “I didn’t feel tired, so I thought I’d get some work done.”

“Work?” Cloud asked, for the first time noticing the mess strewn about the room and desk. The pile of research books and papers were nowhere to be found, apart from a rough stack of loose paper on the desk and plastic bags filled with shredded documents. “I asked you to look through the books, not destroy them.”

“You said the books were dangerous. So I started scanning them to the computer and shredding the paper. That way you can make sure no one gets them.”

“Doesn’t being on a computer mean anyone can get it?” Cloud shuffled through the broken covers of the books, their spines ripped out and cut off to facilitate their insertion into the document feeder.

“Not if you only keep it on this,” Denzel reached over to the laptop and pressed a button on the side, a small rectangular object popping out from the one the many slots. “It’s completely encrypted,” he said, handing the object to Cloud.

Cloud looked down at the small object between his fingers. It was a square made of transparent plastic, a metallic disc embedded in the centre that seemed to reflect the light into a multitude of different colours. “I guess I don’t really understand computers,” he admitted as he turned the fragile card between his fingers. “Why couldn’t someone just steal this?”

“Because they need the password,” Denzel said with the same exasperated tone of voice used by teenagers everywhere trying to explain technology to their parents. “They can’t look at it if they don’t open it.”

“Did you find anything interesting on the pages?”

“Nothing I could understand,” Denzel said with a frown. “But you should be able to search for things easier since it’s on the computer now.”

“You’ll have to show me how,” Cloud said, handing the plastic back to Denzel. At least the books were gone, even if he had his reservations about the electronic form being hacked… or something, he really didn’t know how it worked. But if Denzel said it would be better, he trusted that judgement. “Just don’t stay up too late. You have training tomorrow.”

“I’ve got leave tomorrow, dad.”

“Right, fair enough.” Cloud gave a bleary yawn before pulling Denzel into a quick hug, the boy immediately squirming uncomfortably in his arms. “I’m going to head to bed. Good night, Denzel.”

Cloud gave a small frown as he made his way to his bedroom. At Tifa’s insistence, he had made a routine out of hugging the kids each night before they went to bed. What had changed to make Denzel so ill at ease with it?

Stripping off his clothes and letting them fall to the floor, he climbed into his bed and let his mind drift off. He already had enough to think about without adding more.

It did not take him long to fall asleep, but even then his mind did not let him rest.

 

* * *

 

**October 24 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

_What you pursue will be yours. But you will lose something dear._ _The Planet… is probably watching this situation closely. Be careful of forgetfulness. Your lucky colour is… blue. You look pretty good with that. What we did in Midgar can’t be forgotten, no matter what the reason._

With the warm glow of sunrise washing over the room, Cloud sat on the edge of his bed, shaking his head as he tried to separate the dream world from the real one. He was sure he had heard a voice just before he woke up, but the memory of what it had said was fading quickly, along with the rest of his dream. He’d had the same experience before, when he had lost his sense of self and his subconscious had literally spoken to him in his dreams, trying to warn his waking mind that something was wrong. But the voices had been clear then, like someone whispering in his ear as he lay in bed. Not muddled wisps that drifted away as soon as he tried to grab them.

He pushed himself away from the bed and pulled on the pants he had left lying on the floor. Worrying about his dreams was pointless, the voice would not get any clearer by fretting over it and if it was important, it would no doubt keep trying until it got through. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and left the room, the last memories of his dream fading as he did.

“There’s some breakfast in the kitchen,” Denzel called as Cloud entered the living room. The boy was lying on the couch, eyes glued to the cheap Sunday morning cartoons.

“Have you been up all night?” Cloud asked as he crossed the room, pulling the shirt over his head.

“I couldn’t sleep. I just thought I’d stay up until tonight.” Denzel pulled himself up from the couch, fishing around in his pocket for the disc. He pulled it out and handed it over to Cloud. “I finished the books, though.”

“I’m going to take the laptop and visit Zack. I said I’d tell him more about… you know.”

Denzel looked up at Cloud. “I thought you said we shouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell him where we’re from… well, not yet. I guess we have to do it eventually, I just dunno _how_ to explain it.”

“I figured people would think I was crazy, so I kept quiet.”

“I talked to Reeve before I left, we decided I should bring some proof, just in case,” Cloud said. “We should wait for Vincent to get here before we tell anyone. We can talk it out with him.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m trying to see if there are any other references to Jenova,” Cloud said as he scrolled impatiently down the laptop’s screen. He was sitting cross-legged on the short bunk, his back against the wall and Denzel’s laptop across his knees as he browsed the books Denzel had scanned into the computer.

“And Jenova is what, exactly?” Zack asked from his position at the writing desk in the tiny room. They were holding their discussion in the SOLDIER’s small barracks room out of fear that Cloud’s office had been bugged.

“The Ancients called her the Calamity from the Skies,” Cloud said, hoping the explanation wasn’t going to sound too stupid or far fetched, always a real chance when it came to explaining Jenova or the theory of planet life to someone brought up in the modern world. “A meteor crashed into the Northern Continent two thousand years ago. What emerged, was Jenova.”

“So Jenova wiped out the Ancients?”

“Yes… Jenova can shift her form, and it took on the appearance of the Cetra, deceived them and finally, gave them the virus.”

“The virus? I thought you said Jenova was a virus.”

“She is and she isn’t… there are two parts to Jenova, the cells and the virus.” Which was what he was currently trying to look up amongst Gast’s research, searching for keywords without having time to read the entire collection of over fifty books. “There’s really not that much we know about her.”

Pushing the laptop away so he could easily rest against the wall, Cloud let out a pointed sigh. The research was getting nowhere, not when he could barely understand half the terms that Gast was using and the other half he could understand, he already knew. “Hojo had something he called the Reunion Theory. When Jenova’s cells are separated, they will try to come back to the main body.”

 _Or whoever is controlling the main body_ , he added in his thoughts. Sephiroth had done such a thorough job of subverting Jenova that it was hard to tell what actions were hers and what were his, or how much they influenced each other. “The virus is what infects things, mutates them and makes them go mad,” he continued. “That is what makes stable SOLDIERs, the cells _without_ the virus.”

“So Genesis, Angeal and Sephiroth all have the cells? Is that why they’re all so powerful?”

“No, Zack. All SOLDIERs. You, me, everyone.”

“I… I was afraid you’d…” Zack sighed, his head drooping into a listless slump. “All of us. We’re like a den of monsters, then.”

“I told you… it’s only what you do that makes you a monster. Not what anyone does to you.”

Zack nodded, even if the sag of his features betrayed that he did not believe it. “So we’re all connected with these cells. That’s why I got a headache when you collapsed?”

“We could all hear Jenova, just… some of us more strongly than others…” Cloud grumbled as his pocket starting buzzing, reaching in and fishing out his phone. “Hold on,” he said, checking the screen briefly before flipping the cover open.

“It’s Denzel,” he said briefly to Zack before holding the phone to his ear. “Denzel?”

He frowned, pulling the phone back to check if the call was still connected. “Denzel? Hello?”

“What’s wrong?” Zack asked, concern evident on his face as he stood from the chair.

“I can’t hear anything,” Cloud said, straining his ears to listen. If only the enhanced hearing of mako-infused individuals could transfer down the phone line. “Denzel!”

He growled, shaking the phone in frustration before snapping it closed. “Something’s wrong.” Pulling the sensitive disc out of the laptop and dropping it into his pocket, he closed the lid of the machine and jumped down from the bunk. “I need to find him.”

“Maybe his phone just dialled in his pocket.”

“He would have heard me,” Cloud said with his hand on the door. “I can’t take the chance.” Pushing the door open with a hard shove, he ducked out of the room.

“Cloud!” Zack called, following out into the corridor. “I’ll check if anyone’s seen him, ok?”

“Thank you!” Cloud replied, pausing to nod back to his friend before turning the corner and running for the elevator.


	22. Genesis

**October 24 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Cloud cursed the fact the machine did not share his human sense of urgency as he waited for the elevator to arrive, only then to rumble upwards at the same sedate pace as if it were taking him to work. It may have been faster than taking the stairs, but all he could do was stand there in the empty glass tube, waiting for the machine to pull him up. At least when he was rushing through corridors and up stairs his mind didn’t have time to think, to present him with all the ways that Denzel could be in trouble, hurt or worse.

The elevator mercifully dinged and he nearly ripped the doors from their railings in his haste to exit. He could already see his front door as he ran down the corridor, the door that was designed to automatically shut was gently swinging on its hinges, a large hole through the middle of the wooden frame.

“Denzel!” Cloud shouted as he pressed the door open, moving more slowly into the room, his caution overriding his sense of urgency. Whoever ripped the lock from the door was strong, SOLDIER strong. With his current luck, Angeal or Sephiroth could have come back and decided his son was the best way to get information out of him.

Rushing up the stairs three at a time, he could barely hear any sounds over his own footsteps and the racing of his heart. There were only two rooms that he would be in upstairs, the office or Denzel’s bedroom… and since it was unlikely Denzel would be in his room this early, he charged the office door, twisting the handle down and shouldering it open.

Cloud froze as the door gave way, the handle groaning as it bent under the strength of his grip. Denzel lay still on the floor, arm clutched to his side in a futile attempt to stem the blood flowing on to the floor. A man with striking auburn hair stood above the boy, blood dripping from the edge of the sword at his side. Genesis. He could only remember flashes of the man from his memory, but the coat of flowing red leather that covered the SOLDIER uniform left no doubt.

“Denzel!” Cloud cried, shoving the door to the side and starting forward, only to be stopped when that red blade swung towards him, stopping inches from his face.

“He will be fine,” Genesis drawled, lowering the blade until it was pointing at Cloud’s chest. “A scar and a lesson on picking his battles will be all he takes from this.” He paused for a moment, holding Cloud as swords length as his eye wandered about the bristling blond’s form. “So you’re the new Hojo. I expected small, but not… pretty.”

Cloud pulled back, circling carefully towards Denzel, an action that the redhead seemed happy to let him do, only moving the sword so it was still pointing at him. Genesis was known as a skilled swordsman as well as Shinra’s most powerful mage and… summoner. “You’re the one who attacked our transport,” he accused, his voice a low growl. “Does Angeal know you nearly got his student killed?”

“I didn’t know his pet was on board.” Genesis shrugged, the tip of the blade wavering at the gesture. “Not that it made any difference.”

Cloud glared back, prickling at the flippant response and the murderous admission. Not that people trying to kill him was new, but now the ex-SOLDIER had branched out into trying to kill his son. “How did you get in?” he asked, trying to at least stall for more time as he inched towards Denzel.

“An eternity of stairs and an endless amount of keycards,” Genesis said, chuckling as he explained. “The mayor was also most helpful.”

“I know what you want,” Cloud said in a growl, narrowing his eyes. If Genesis had come straight to his apartment, that only meant one thing. He was after books they had taken from Hojo’s library, the key to understanding the Jenova project. “I’m not going to let you have it.”

“How confident you are, little one,” Genesis replied, a wry chuckle complementing his dismissive tone, “when even I do not know what I want.”

“You want to be cured,” Cloud stated more than asked. “But you’re going the wrong…”

“Genesis!” A black blur followed the yell as Zack charged into the room his sword out, his wild swing at Genesis effortlessly stopped by a one handed block of the redhead’s blade.

“Well, well.” Genesis smirked as he eyed the new arrival, his tone light with mockery. “Angeal’s puppy has grown into a guard dog. Woof woof.”

Cloud crouched down next to Denzel, the crashing of blades and furious yelling allowing him cover enough to wrap his arms around his unresponsive son, pulling the boy close to his chest as he dragged him into the corner, behind the desk and away from the fighting.

“Denzel,” he whispered, his eyes beginning to burn as he gently shook the boy. The carpet was streaked red from where he dragged Denzel, his hand and shirt soaked with too much blood. “Denzel,” he whispered again more desperately, shaking him again but with no response. How many times did he need to be covered in his son’s blood?

Pulling away the limp hand that was no longer pressing down on the wound, Cloud grabbed the front of his uniform and ripped, blue fabric stained purple tearing open in tatters. Using the only clean scrap of cloth as a rag, he wiped away the blood covering on the boy’s skin to reveal no wound but a ragged line of raised and inflamed tissue, the edges already settling into a pale scar from magic rapidly stitching together the flesh.

He lay Denzel against the wall while he turned back to the immediate threat of Genesis. In their brief fight, Zack was already losing badly, forced on to the defensive and struggling to use his cumbersome broadsword to block the brutally fast jabs of Genesis’ sword. For every two attacks he blocked another would get through, barely deflected grazes and gashes along his arms that while minor, were adding up rapidly as they slowed the inexperienced SOLDIER down even further.

Tapping his bracer briefly, Cloud activated his materia, a soft yellow glow visible from his forearm as a protective spell washed over Zack, Denzel and himself, the barrier almost immediately deflecting a powerful thrust to Zack’s unprotected midsection. As soon as Genesis had his back turned for another series of punishing strikes, Cloud vaulted the desk, launching himself into the air at the red SOLDIER, his hand held high and crackling with vivid green flashes of magical energy.

“Cloud!” Zack cried, but it was too late… he couldn’t change his course in mid-air. With a heavy blow to throw his opponent off balance, Genesis turned to the new threat and in one smooth motion stabbed Cloud through the forearm, the spell dissipating into a shower of harmless sparks. Momentum carried Cloud forward, pushing the sword through his forearm into his shoulder and out the other side, the blade wrenching harshly as he slammed into Genesis, tearing further into his bone and flesh as they were both knocked to the ground, the sword pinning Cloud’s arm to his shoulder like a skewer.

His blood had barely splattered against the floor when Zack charged in, a heavy swing of the large broadsword catching Genesis off guard as it landed, ripping through leather and flesh in a bloody line from shoulder to back. Pressing his advantage, Zack dropped his shoulder and rushed the other SOLDIER, slamming into his back before he could stand and tearing the sword from Genesis’ grasp.

Cloud yelled in pain when the sword was torn from his shoulder and through his arm, a thin arc of blood spraying through the air as Genesis pulled it back to his side. Kicking against the ground to push himself back against the wall, Cloud clutched his shoulder in desperate agony as he once again called on the materia to aid him, the green glow travelling up his arm and through his shoulder as the magic knitted together the severed flesh. Propping his back up against the wall, he could only watch as Zack and Genesis continued their battle. Genesis held his left arm tight against his body, the shoulder drooping from where Zack had scored his only blow against the redhead. Despite that, Zack was doing much worse, the fabric of his shirt tattered and soaked in blood from the many minor wounds he had received from the effective tactic of attrition his opponent employed. Both men were lagging as they fought, the thrusts of the rapier not as quick and the slashes of the broadsword not as strong.

The bleeding stemmed, Cloud struggled to his feet, glaring at Genesis with a newfound respect. He had underestimated the man, badly and to near fatal consequences. The sword could have easily gone through his chest and with his reckless charge he could have done little to stop it. No, this was the man who rivalled Sephiroth before him, so he had to play it smart. Keeping Zack in between him and Genesis, he carefully touched the teenager’s back, the ripples of healing energy passing between them in a pale green stream.

“You have some skill at magic, little one,” Genesis said with a chuckle, flexing his left arm as he judged the injury. “Ah, after my own heart. Perhaps this shall be interesting after all.”

“No, Genesis,” came a voice from the darkness of the corridor, dripping with malice and rage. All eyes in the room turned to the door as Sephiroth stepped into the room, both hands holding Masamune over his shoulder in a battle-ready stance, the blade pointed at Genesis unwavering even as he stepped forward. “I’m afraid this will be brief.”


	23. Bittersweet Rhapsody

**October 24 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“No, Genesis… I’m afraid this will be brief.” Sephiroth stepped into the room with unerring purpose, both hands holding the Masamune high over his shoulder, the blade pointed at Genesis unwavering even as he stepped forward.

“Zack, leave.” He had not taken his eyes off the red SOLDIER even while commanding the teenager.

“But-”

“Now!” Sephiroth growled, cutting off the protest. His voice was not to be denied.

Zack reluctantly nodded, his eyes flicking between Cloud and Genesis as he backed away, lowering his sword.

“You too… Professor.”

Cloud eyed Sephiroth with a look of barely contained disdain, refusing to even acknowledge the order he had been given. He stepped away from the two Firsts, tight bursts of energy running up his arm as stepped in front of his fallen son, placing his body in between the opposing SOLDIERs and Denzel.

Genesis was, if anything, just amused by the sudden appearance of his dour peer. “You look terribly angry, Sephiroth. Shouldn’t you be happy to see an old friend?”

“If it was I who left without a word, you would be seething. Am I not allowed the same emotion?”

“ _I hate and I love. Perhaps you ask why I do so. I do not know, but I feel it, and am in agony,_ ” he recited in melancholy tones, the lyrical quality of his voice left behind. “Allow me my hypocritical feelings.”

“Loveless again?” Sephiroth asked, raising an unamused eyebrow.

Genesis threw his head back and laughed. “I am not a one book pony.”

“Do any of your books have a flowery passage for ‘shut up and get to the point’? Why are you here? Why did you leave?”

“I am a fox, let loose by my masters only to be chased by you hounds in their bloodsport. But the fox is a survivor. I will be free of their game even if I must tear their throats.”

“We are not hunting you, Genesis.”

Genesis turned his head to the side, shaking it with a resigned chuckle, devoid of all humour. He stepped closer to Sephiroth, and with his own sword, tapped the tip of the Masamune. “Not yet.”

Sephiroth stared at the tip of his sword, that had just shared a touch with his friend. The sword he had been pointing at said friend. “You could still return,” he said, _implored_ , the tip of the Masamune drooping to the floor.

“Some day you will understand why that is not possible.” His face was a picture of pain and regret as the words came from his lips, a brief hint before the mask of suave sarcasm was pulled down once again. “It was nice seeing you, Sephiroth. I’ll just take the Professor and go, shall I?” He moved in a blur, one arm snaking around Cloud’s shoulder and pulling him hostage against his chest. The other stretched Rapier out at Sephiroth, a warning against interfering.

“If it’s him you want… take your prize.” Sephiroth spat the words out, disgust and disappointment etched in the narrowing of his eyes.

But Cloud would not be taken so easily. Pushing back with his feet, he rammed the back of his skull into Genesis’ nose, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone and the wet splatter of blood through his spiked hair.

Genesis reacted on instinct, red runes blazing the length of the sword as he brought it into a spinning attack, the blade aiming in his rage to slit Cloud’s throat. The attack stopped barely short of its target, the edge of the sword hitting an invisible barrier with an impenetrable thud.

Cloud was holding his hands wide apart, one arm wrapped in the strong yellow glow of a spell, seeming to push back against the blade with an invisible sword. The handle appeared first, straps of red leather wound up to the thick steel crosspiece. Wisps of smoke shot up the invisible blade, the winding mass a green so dark it appeared black, each trail leaving behind the bright steel of First Tsurugi before vanishing into the air.

Genesis chuckled, though the effect was ruined by the nasal wheeze Cloud had given him. “You’re too small to have pulled that from anywhere…” His eyebrows waggling at the joke even as he was pushed back by the heavier blade.

“Nice trick,” Sephiroth remarked, stepping back from the two locked fighters. He lowered his sword, instead looking on curiously at this new development.

“A skill I picked up from an old enemy.” Cloud resisted the urge to look directly at Sephiroth as he spoke, though he made sure to keep the man in his vision at all times.

Cloud began a series of swings at his opponent, each one ripping jagged lines through the walls and ceiling as the enormous blade tore through the limits of the small room. After the first attempt at blocking the strikes left his arm numb, Genesis gracefully danced out of the way, leaving Cloud doing nothing but carving jagged lines into the floor.

Cloud back-stepped, finding himself on the defensive as the rapid strikes of his opponents light sword ran circles around his heavier, drywall-slowed blade. What he needed was a smaller sword, one that could complete a swing without hitting everything else in the room. Luckily, he had several.

As their swords locked together, he pressed down with his left hand on the back of his blade, gripping the hidden handle of one of the smaller swords set in the main body. Flicking the blade out of the handle until the gears snapped into place, he brought the dagger-sized blade into play.

He fought with two styles, the small and agile dagger in one hand fending off strikes with a speed that the longer Rapier could not match, the heavier First Tsurugi brutally exploiting any openings the nimble dagger could find. The technique may have been unorthodox, but Cloud had perfected it over years of practice, while Genesis scrambled to keep pace with a style he had no experience facing.

It was almost a long lost form of fencing, holding a long blade in one hand to strike with, and a smaller main gauche in the other to parry.

Genesis just wished he’d thought of it first. It would look so much less clumsy with his elegant Rapier.

Not that elegance was helping him much, nor clumsiness hindering Cloud. Genesis was losing ground steadily with each heavy blow he was forced to avoid until he was pressed against the full length glass window that looked out over the balcony, Cloud’s blade locked against his own. There was nowhere left to go.

“You broke into my home and you stabbed my son,” Cloud growled at his opponent, his face twisted in anger as he glared the red SOLDIER down. “Go back to Hollander and die. He can’t help you and neither can Jenova.”

Anger, outrage and his fierce protectiveness culminated in one final burst of strength. Forcing the joined blades upwards, Cloud performed a half-spin on the spot, planting his foot through the new opening and into Genesis’ chest, ribs cracking under the force as he was hurled backwards through the window. The glass shattered around his back, brilliantly sharp shards slicing through flesh and leather as they tumbled with him, over the short balcony and through the railing, tumbling off the side of the Shinra building in a shower of glass and bent steel.


	24. Continue

**October 24 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Cloud turned from the broken window, the blades he held in each hand disappearing back into the air with the same wispy green trail. He could see that Zack had re-entered the room, crouching beside Denzel and holding his shoulders as the boy slowly returned back to consciousness. He started towards his son, only stopped by a firm grip on his arm.

“We need to talk,” Sephiroth said with a nod to the door.

Cloud tensed, and not just from the pain Sephiroth was causing his still-healing wound. He had turned his back on Sephiroth. He had been so focused on Genesis that he had forgotten the more dangerous enemy behind him.

“No, _you_ need to talk. I need to take care of my son.” Cloud shook the hand free and turned to face him. He sighed as the shaken feline eyes looked back down at him. As much as he never wanted to admit that Sephiroth was ever right about anything, he did owe the man information. He was not ready to face down Sephiroth, not yet.

“Fine,” Cloud relented after a difficult pause. “Zack, can you take care of Denzel?” Zack had nodded his assent, but he needn’t have asked. His friend was already carefully administering a potion to the stirring boy. Satisfied that his son was in capable hands, he motioned Sephiroth out of the room.

“You killed him…” He could feel a tightness in Sephiroth as he said the words, a barely noticeable stiffness in his breathing, his posture, his expression. Was it grief? Anger, sorrow or guilt? “I can understand that you… but-”

“He’s not dead,” Cloud said as he followed and other man down the stairs, and into the lounge below. Not that he could be entirely certain that Genesis had survived, but he had learned long ago not to ignore his instincts on these matters. Genesis had been moving to the balcony to retreat, not to die.

Sephiroth quirked an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall of the room, the closest he had seen the man to shocked or incredulous since he had been thrown into a reactor by a trooper. “He fell over fifty stories.”

Leaning on the wall opposite, Cloud folded his arms and shrugged. “He can fly.”

“He can… _fly_.” Sephiroth sounded suspicious that he was being mocked.

“It’s sort of an ability that Project G got.” Or at least, the three original SOLDIERs. Cloud was glad he had never developed one. “He’s got a wing, but just on one side.”

“Is this why he left?”

Cloud’s gaze dropped to the floor. He could passably remember the events surrounding Angeal and Genesis, but for the nature of the degradation they suffered, he only knew brief parts of what Zack had been able to piece together. “It’s… part of it.”

“You said Jenova could not help Genesis. I was told my mother died in childbirth. Is she alive and working with Hollander?”

Cloud dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know where to begin,” he admitted. “I don’t even know half the bollocks Hojo would’ve told you.” Pulling his face out from behind his fingers, he looked Sephiroth in the eye. “Jenova wasn’t your mother.”

“Then who is she?” Sephiroth asked, his brow creasing with frustration. “Why would Hojo tell me that she is my mother?”

“I guess in his twisted mind, it was.” Hojo would never have admitted that Sephiroth was _born_ , only insisting that he was _created_. To Hojo, he and Jenova were the parents, the ones who created Sephiroth the monster. “Jenova is a… component of the SOLDIER injections.”

“Then my mother…”

Cloud almost imagined he could see hope in those cold green eyes. “She died in childbirth, that was true.” Then it was gone. Sephiroth’s real mother gave up her own child to a monster, for experiments she had a part in herself. Would telling him about his mother be any better than him finding out what Jenova was?

Sephiroth’s shoulders would have slumped, had his pride allowed for it. “I see.”

“You’re not the only one with questions,” Cloud pressed, ignoring the emotional fall of the other man. “Where is Angeal? Why did you two disappear?”

“We were investigating the research sites you were closing down. When he did not answer his phone, I went to find him. The place was destroyed by his sword, and his phone was left in the ruins.” Sephiroth pushed away from the wall, stepping closer to Cloud with each question he asked. “What were you hiding there? What would make him leave?”

No. No, that was not good. Sephiroth… obviously didn’t find anything, he was still here… but Angeal had found something in those labs and left. But which ones? “N-nothing!” Cloud stammered out once he realised he had been silent too long. “We just sent out teams to find Hojo’s research. Why were you snooping around?”

“Because as this conversation has made abundantly clear, you would have told us next to nothing.” Sephiroth stopped his approach within striking distance of Cloud, looming over the shorter man and glaring him down. “Or do you expect me to believe you hold my best interests at heart?”

“Says the guy who was gonna let me get kidnapped.”

“Point taken,” Sephiroth said with a wry chuckle. “It seems everyone has _greatly_ underestimated you, myself included.”

“Uh, sirs?” Cloud turned at the sound of the voice to find a pair of Shinra security officers standing in the hallway, the front door flapping uselessly behind them. The one who had gathered the courage to speak stepped forward, helmet gripped tightly in his hands. “We were notified of a disturbance, and—”

“Your presence is not required,” Sephiroth cut the security guard off, adding a sharp glare when it looked like he wanted to speak again in protest.

“Sephiroth dealt with the intruder,” Cloud added more softly, and convincingly… even if he was lying through his teeth. “But I think you may need to call in a builder.”

“Yes, sirs.” The guards performed a quick salute and even quicker retreat, leaving the two alone once again.

“You’d better go as well.”

“I still have questions.”

“My _son_ has more blood on my office floor than in his body,” Cloud growled at Sephiroth with such intensity the famously unflappable man took a half-step back. “I’ve wasted too much time with questions, they can wait.”

“Then they will wait. But they will not go away.”

With a final glare, Sephiroth turned from Cloud and left the apartment, a movement that pulled towering columns of flame and suffocating terror from Cloud’s nightmares. He had barely established himself in Shinra, and already he had more enemies than allies. As valuable as the support of Denzel and Zack was, the enmity of Angeal, Sephiroth and Genesis would cost him much more.

With a brief detour to the bathroom to pick up a roll of gauze, Cloud walked back up the stairs to his injured and inexperienced allies, flexing his arm as he wrapped the soft cotton around his wound. He could feel the muscle knitting back together at unnatural speeds, another trait courtesy of the experiments he had been subjected to.

“You _kissed_ Cloud?” He stopped in the hall, hand halfway through tying off the wrapping on his shoulder as he heard Denzel’s incredulous question pass through the open door.

“It was so embarrassing,” Zack replied with a nervous laugh. “He shot me down pretty hard.”

“You’re not even that much older than I am!”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t look that old. You have to admit, he’s really damn hot.”

“He’s my _dad_.”

“You’re awake,” Cloud called out before he stepped into the room, deciding that he _really_ didn’t want the conversation to progress any further.

“Uh, yeah… it just took a couple of potions,” Zack replied with a startled jump, scratching the spikes that fell past his neck nervously. Both of them were sitting with their backs against the wall, Denzel’s legs stretched out and Zack’s bunched up, his arms hugging his knees.

“Let’s see…” Cloud crouched down to inspect the wound. The flesh had knitted together nicely, with no sign of bruising that would indicate continued internal bleeding. The Cure spell was good for knitting muscle and halting bleeding to prop you up in battle, but damage to vital organs was beyond its power. Unravelling the gauze, he wrapped it tightly around the wound, layering the bandage in a wide wrap that would make it difficult for Denzel to bend at the stomach and risk further injury.

“I was hoping I’d get a few weeks in between injuries,” Denzel complained as the bandage was tied off. “I swear Cloud, before you came back I went months at a time without being stabbed.”

“You’ll thank me later. Chicks dig scars,” Cloud’s short-lived grin was overtaken by a serious expression. “Why would you attack a First Class?”

“I had to stop him from getting the rest of the papers,” Denzel grumbled, his eyes cast down. “There were some I hadn’t shredded yet. He took them before you came in.”

Cloud winced at the news. “What was on them?”

“I don’t know… I tried to call you, but he knocked the phone out of my hands.”

“Well, we can’t do anything about it now.” It was unlikely that a small selection of papers would be enough for Genesis, anyway. He eyed Zack’s uniform, splattered with blood and shredded beyond repair. He had more important people to worry about. “Zack, let’s take a look at you.”

“Uh… I’m fine, really. What about your arm? You got hit worse than I did.”

“I already wrapped it,” Cloud replied, holding up his forearm as evidence. “I need to make sure none of your organs were hit.”

“Really, it’s just a few scratches! I cast a Cure and they’re gone.”

“Well, I need to check. Take off your shirt.”

Zack reluctantly acquiesced, unhooking the suspenders from his shoulder before pulling the tattered and slashed remains of his shirt over his head, baring his chest and the network of barely healed cuts to Cloud’s scrutinising gaze.

“I’ll need to wrap these,” Cloud commented upon further inspection, pressing delicately down on one of the scars to test the strength of the sealed flesh. “They could easily re-open.” He prodded further, testing each scar with a gentle push to make sure it was only a surface cut, not a deeper wound that would require further healing.

“So, uh… Cloud.” Zack was blushing slightly at the treatment.

“Yes?” Cloud said with resignation. He knew what was coming, and he could happily ignore it and hope it’d go away. Why couldn’t Zack do the same? Or at the least, not talk about it when he was running his fingers over the teenager’s muscled chest.

“You heard… in the corridor?”

“Zack, this really isn’t the right time to… oh for…” Cloud buried his head in his hands once he noticed the lines of slashes and trails of blood running down Zack’s pants. Maybe Genesis could come back and throw fireballs at them, that would be preferable. “I, uh… need you to take off your pants.”

Zack would have paled if the blush hadn’t spread to his entire face. “Ah, n-no,” he stammered, shifting to adjust the front of his pants. “It feels fine, Cloud. Really!”

Cloud flinched in sympathy. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to the uniquely embarrassing reactions that a teenage boy could have to a medical examination… or anything else for that matter. “Just promise me you’ll get checked out at the infirmary?”

“Yes!” Zack grabbed on to that option like a life-line. “I’ll go down when-”

He was interrupted by a low rumbling, a warning sound before they could feel the room around them begin to shift, accompanied by a persistent rattling as small items covering the shelves and desk began to shake, wobble or fall over.

The shaking was light, barely enough to knock a picture frame off the wall, but it was enough. Ceiling tiles, their supports shredded by the manic fighting were shaken loose by the low rumbling, shattered into plumes of dust as they crashed into the ground. Cloud swatted one away as he raised a protective barrier over them, the weak plaster crumbling under his fist. Zack was hugging Denzel against his chest, shielding the smaller boy with his body as the weakened remains of the ceiling fell like a rain down their backs.

Just as suddenly, it was over, the room lying still but for the odd scrap of tile dropping from the ruined ceiling.

“An earthquake?” Denzel asked, untangling himself from Zack and brushing off the dust that was clinging to his bare skin.

“You don’t get them in Midgar,” Zack said as he likewise wiped the fine white powder off his shoulder.

Silently turning to the window, Cloud looked through the slowly clearing mist of asbestos and plaster, out past the shattered balcony to the horizon, the red light of the setting sun hidden behind the heavy smog of Midgar. Beyond that horizon, Vincent would working his way to the dark city. Nanaki would be sitting around the fire of the Cosmo Candle, listening as his grandfather taught the study of planet life. Somewhere out there, Genesis would be returning to his exile, with Jenova in his grasp but no answers to help him along.

And deep below the Northern Crater, the Weapons would be waiting for their call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, Part 1 is done! Thanks everyone for all the support :) There's a short interlude and then it's on to Part 2. Thank you all for reading.


	25. Interlude: World on Fire

Cloud woke up with a start. His chest was heavy, his head was having trouble keeping the world straight. It was like he’d gone twelve rounds with a Nibel dragon… or a bottle of vodka.

He peeled himself from his bed — which, as it turned out, was just the ubiquitous concrete floor of the Shinra building — and couldn’t help the one question that sprang to mind: just what _had_ he been doing last night? He was fully dressed, thankfully, but couldn’t for the life of him remember what he’d done to get himself here.

Checking his surroundings, the first thing he noticed was that there was little light to be had in his makeshift bedroom. He could spot a fluorescent light hanging haphazardly from the ceiling, but it hadn’t been turned on at all. The only light was a faint red glow from a card reader near the door.

Stumbling over to the door, he swiped his card against the reader. At least the Planet was on his side for once, and with a barely audible beep the light turned green and the door slid open.

Well, the Planet being on his side might have been a premature conclusion. Outside the room the building ended abruptly, the concrete floor disappearing into bent rebar, which disappeared into nothing but rubble and twisted metal. Midgar stretched out to the horizon, a sea of wrecked and crumbling buildings, the plate having mostly collapsed under its own weight.

Did he really just sleep through the apocalypse?

Well, there was no point staying up here, in a building ready to collapse. Picking the safest path he could, Cloud slid, jumped and fell down the remains of the building, ending up standing on the top of a pile of rubble, his uniform covered with pale grey dust. Figuring that one direction was as good as another, he set off towards the edge of the city.

The thing that struck him the most was not just the lifelessness of the city, but the way it felt more natural in that lifelessness. It lacked the bustle that he was used to, that teeming mass of humanity that pushed through the arteries of Midgar; yet in its absence birds were flocking between the tallest buildings and small animals darted between their shadowy hideouts as he passed. The sun beat down against his bare skin, no longer blocked by the thick black pollution clouds that were once ever-present above the city.

It seemed to take most of the day to navigate the ruined city. The collapsed plate had knocked over many of the buildings in the slums, creating an impossible maze to get through. It was as he was reaching the edge of the city and the vast wasteland stretched out before him that Cloud saw the first sign of life.

A tall man dressed in a tattered overcoat was picking through the rubble, picking out small bits of metal — screws or nails, maybe, he couldn’t quite see — and dropping them into a wheelbarrow. Shouldering his rifle, Cloud made his way over to the man.

“Excuse me, s-”

“You— how dare you!” the man yelled. Cloud was taken aback, shrinking back from the red-faced man. “How dare you wear _that_!”

Confused, Cloud pulled at the straps of his helmet. He didn’t want to go for his rifle, he just wanted to defuse the situation. He knew the trooper helmet could be intimidating and troopers could sometimes be treated with hostility, especially by the slum dwellers.

“I’m sorry— I don’t know…” Cloud said, pulling his helmet off and hoping that showing a non-threatening face would calm the man.

“Sir! I’m so, so sorry, sir! I didn’t know,” the man said, wide-eyed and stumbling over himself. He repeated his hurried apologies as he backed away from Cloud, nearly tripping over his own feet. Once he’d back-pedalled enough, he turned around and sprinted down into the maze-like rubble that surrounded them.

Too surprised to react and too confused to decide his best course of action, Cloud dropped his helmet in the dirt and followed the man. It was exactly the opposite reaction he had come to expect — he had been used to hostility out of his helmet, and only receiving respect once he put it on.

He lost the trail of the mysterious man, but that wasn’t too surprising when the sun was lowering in the sky, the twisted husks that were once buildings casting long shadows along the ground. He kept going anyway, because what else was he going to do? It was too surreal, like he’d been dropped into one of those doom-and-gloom movies that predicted the end of the world at the outbreak of the war. The imagery was there, the dust, the barren wasteland, the ruins of civilisation.

All he needed now was a dog.

 

* * *

 

It was night that proved to be Cloud’s saviour. He was starting to panic as it fell, dreading the idea of being alone in this cold, desolate husk of a city. But just as his hope was fading with the last light of the day, he saw a brilliant white glow on the horizon, a strip that lit a path from the city’s edge out to the horizon.

Where there were lights, there were people. Maybe civilisation had survived. The thought kept Cloud going as he walked through the night, rifle clutched against his side.

Even at the late hour, the signs of life were apparent as he edged closer to the light. The rumbling of a truck engine on late night deliveries. The incomprehensible yelling of someone who had a little too much.

It had to be early morning by the time he arrived in the new city on the edge of Midgar. The streetlights bathed everything in a cool white glow, and though the streets were abandoned, it was a different feel from the ones he had wandered in Midgar. The paths were clean and the buildings, though some haphazardly constructed, were well-maintained, in their own way.

He wandered into the only place that would be open at that unseemly hour — a bar. Hoping that they wouldn’t just kick him out for being underage, he pushed the door open with one last glance at the sign.

_Seventh Heaven_

Cloud shuffled on the spot, trying to simultaneously tighten his grip on his rifle and draw attention away from it. The bar was filled with some of the most dangerous looking people he had ever laid eyes upon. Worse than that, as soon as he had entered, they all stood from their seats and were subjecting him to an uncomfortable level of scrutiny.

Was this about his uniform again?

He gave them a nervous smile.

“You’re shitting me.”

An older blond man was looking at him with eyes wide in disbelief. The rest of the group gathered around him like they had spotted the most interesting exhibit at the zoo.

“Is that…” a younger, Wutaian looking girl said.

“Spiky-headed nutter screwin’ things up again.”

“Oh, no,” Tifa said. Wait…

“Tifa?” Cloud blurted out. Ok, he could deal with the end of the world, the destruction of Midgar and the rebuilding of civilisation, but Tifa being here at the end of the world was just completely out of left field.

“Uh… hi, Cloud,” she said.

“What’s going on, Tifa?” he asked. “Uh… you look… different.”

“There’s a lot to tell you, Cloud. It’s not going to be… would you stop looking at my breasts?”

“Sorry,” he muttered, blushing furiously.

“Told ya he always looked like a teenage squirt,” the blond man said.

 

* * *

 

Tifa couldn’t help but stare at Cloud — Cid was right, it wasn’t just how young this Cloud looked to her, but how young he _didn’t_ look. There was no mistaking that this was the Cloud from the past that _her_ Cloud had gone to, but the differences weren’t obvious… he was a little shorter, with more baby fat and a rounder, less defined face. But it was his expression and demeanour that were the most obvious signs that this wasn’t _their_ Cloud.

“How old are ya, squirt?” Cid asked.

“Uh… I’m fourteen.”

Cid took a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it up. “Hm… figures. So he hasn’t gone back in our time.”

“How’d ya figure that?” Barret asked.

“If he had, we wouldn’t be havin’ this discussion, see?” Cid replied, putting his two index fingers next to each other. “Say this finger is us, and this is him,” he wiggled his fingers in turn. “If he went straight back, everythin’ would change an’ we wouldn’t know about it. But, if he went back an’ sideways, so to speak,” he moved his fingers around to demonstrate the timeline, squiggling the Cloud finger back up to demonstrate them being scrubbed out. “Then it looks to him like he’s gone back, but to us life goes on. Apart from this squirt appearing.” He nodded his head towards the younger Cloud.

“Alternate dimensions,” Yuffie said.

“No, no.” Cid shook his head. “A dimension’s something that exists in our world, or our universe at least. Like we live in a three dimensional world, so ya can’t see something four dimensional, but you could sorta see its three dimensional shadow.”

Barret fixed a wary eye on the pilot. “How’d you learn all this science crap?”

“Fer feck’s sake, muscles.” Cid sighed, taking another cigarette from behind his ear and lighting up. “D’ya think I just shit out airships? There’s a bit of goddamn science involved in making giant-ass steel boats fly.”

“Yeah, but what do we do about him?” Yuffie asked.

Tifa looked over the faces of her comrades. They were all at a loss for what to do, just like she was.

She laughed. “I feel sorry for Cloud. Our Cloud.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… this is Cloud. He’s definitely Cloud, but he’s not. I guess that’s what he’s going through, where he is, it’s everyone else that’s different.”

“Yeah,” Barret said. “Tha’s gotta be weird.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?”

They exchanged nervous looks.

“Well…”

“Hey, Cloud,” Yuffie said. “Wanna hear about the time you saved the world?”


	26. Interlude 2: Family

Cloud sat at the dining table of his mother’s new Midgar apartment as she fussed around in the kitchen. Denzel was sitting next to him in silence, fidgeting nervously as the minutes passed. He had insisted that they did not need anything to eat, but his mother had insisted on stopping their conversation long enough to get some lunch in — after all, Denzel was a growing boy, as she insisted. It seemed more like an interruption so she could have some time to think.

Luckily it did not take too long before she came out with some fresh sandwiches and drinks on a tray, putting them down on the table with a matronly smile. “There you go boys, you’d better eat up!”

“Ma, I dinn—” Cloud cringed and bit off the word even as he said it. He hadn’t realised that being around his mother would bring back his stupid backwater accent that he had worked so hard to lose. It was even harder to accept since his mother had kept her perfectly normal Kalmian accent, and Denzel trying to stifle his giggles was not helping at all. “I brought Denzel here—”

“When the army took you, my only worry was that you wouldn’t come back to me. You’re not even gone a year and I’m dragged out of my home because you’re a big Shinra executive and then this boy tells you come from the future?”

“Ma, ‘this boy’—”

She continued talking over Cloud, not pausing for breath as she poured out all the worries she had stored up over the past few days. “I missed out on half your life because I let you go to Shinra and I’ll never get to see you grown up and I’m so happy that you’re alright and I’m so proud that you’re successful _but I lost my little boy, Cloud_. I missed out on half your life and I wasn’t there to protect you and I wasn’t able to see you grow up into this man that you’ve become.”

“You’ll be able to watch Denzel grow up,” Cloud said when he finally find a gap in her stream of words.

“What?” She looked up in confusion, wiping a few tears away from her face.

“Denzel is my son. Your grandson.”

She stood speechless for a moment, her eyes welling up further as they remained fixed on Denzel. “Oh, my boy,” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Denzel and pulling him into a tight hug despite the protesting squawk. “A grandson? Oh, I have so many questions.”

“My parents died when the plate fell.” When talking about how they would handle his mother, Denzel had wanted to get that out in the open first, before too many assumptions could be made. “Cloud found me, and he and Tifa took me in.”

“Tifa? I’m glad you got together with her, Cloud. Now, tell me about yourself, Denzel. I want to know more about my grandson.”

They settled in for a long evening of storytelling, with Denzel telling the story of his escape from the destruction of Sector 7. He talked about Ruvie Tuesti, who had taken him in as he wandered the streets of Midgar, alone and devastated over the loss of his parents. He skipped over much of their suffering from Geostigma, instead concentrating on the life he lead in a scavenger looking for scrap metal with his friends in the slums, then his heroic rescues by Cloud as he once again saved the world from Sephiroth.

It was Cloud’s own stories that took the longest, though like Denzel he too glossed over much of the heavier burdens life had thrown his way. He described the burning of Nibelheim in only a few words, his imprisonment below the Shinra mansion in fewer, and the debilitating disease of Geostigma in only three: “I got sick.” While he did not explain anything in detail, he had resolved to leave nothing out of the story he told his mother. He still yearned for the approval of his mother and even so many years on, he was still glad that she offered it so easily.

The streetlights were on in full as they left the apartment, Cloud leaving behind some last words of warning to his mother: do not trust Shinra and tell no one you’re my mother until this is all over.

With that, they split apart as a family, Cloud and Denzel going back to their life on the inside of Shinra.

 

* * *

 

“I hope you have something for me, Cissnei.”

Tseng leaned back in his desk, fixing his gaze on the young Turk. Perhaps he shouldn’t be taking his frustrations out on her, but days of getting nowhere with Reno had taken its toll on the Turk leader. It was a complication he could ill afford, both in terms of getting their much needed information about Strife as well as just the general cohesion of the Turks. He needed to trust his team, anything else was deadly.

“I’m sorry sir — I do have something, I just don’t know what it is.”

Tseng put a hand up to his forehead, trying to ward off the impending headache. Of course, he had come to expect this with the new professor. The big details, the important ones, they all fell into place. The little details, the ones that shouldn’t matter, they made no sense at all.

“He is from Nibelheim, I was even able to talk to his mother.”

Tseng looked up. “Then surely…”

“Well, that’s when it stops making sense. They’re all convinced that he’s fourteen.”

“Even his mother?”

“ _Especially_ his mother.”

“This doesn’t add up.”

“I know, sir. I asked everyone I could, but they all said the same story. He was born in 1986 and he lived in the town for thirteen years. He left earlier this year to join Shinra and become a SOLDIER.”

Tseng pulled a piece of paper from his desk. “And yet this is his medical licence. Mideel, two months ago. Full practicing certificate for Cloud Strife, age twenty-seven.”

Cissnei raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not a forgery.”

“Then I don’t know what else to tell you, sir.”

“Was there anything else of note?”

“Just a childhood sweetheart, I guess. When I was asking her about Strife, she said… well,” Cissnei said. She pulled a piece of card out of her jacket pocket. “ ‘Stupid boys, always getting into trouble’, ” she quoted. “ ‘I should have known! Now I have to go to Midgar and save _him_!’ ”

“Is that relevant?”

Cissnei shrugged. “She asked if she could come back to Midgar with me.”

Tseng raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, I agreed. She’s waiting in interrogation room three.”

Tseng rose from his chair and straightened his jacket. It was something, but indeed… he was not sure what it was. “Her name?”

“Tifa Lockheart.”


	27. Debut

**Part 2**

**December 11 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

_Two months later…_

It couldn’t have been easy, could it?

No, the Planet itself liked to play the puppet master, jerking him around whenever it liked. When did things ever work out in his favour?

Another hail of bullets ricocheted off the overturned concrete pillar they were taking refuge behind, leaving a cloud of dust and the echoed rings of bouncing lead. The concrete jungle surrounding them was swarming with blue uniforms, just waiting to take their heads off as soon as they poked them out of cover.

“I’ll distract them,” Zack whispered, motioning his intended path with his hand. “Take their position from below.”

Before he had a chance to protest at the insane idea, Zack leapt over the relative safety of their cover to charge the ranks of Shinra infantry, swerving and diving through the debris littered highway as he made up the ground between bursts of gunfire.

As insane as it was, they were going to be outflanked if they stayed there any longer, and Zack had just provided him the perfect cover. The pillar didn’t cover to the edge of the highway, but he was able to make a running leap out of the cover, sliding on his back until he dropped off the exposed edge, just managing to grab a hold of one the exposed beams before he plummeted into the slums. Half running along beams, half swinging between girders, the trusses hanging below the road provided him with a clear path to the target in the tangled mess of interchanges and highways surrounding the Sector 5 pillar that the locals called Spaghetti Junction.

The radio crackled in his ear. “I can’t keep this up much longer!”

“Nearly there!”

At least his destination was in sight, the building hanging precariously over the edge with only rusted and worn bracing keeping it from falling into the black pit below. Legs dangling over said black pit, he pulled himself from handhold to handhold along the bottom of the concrete structure. Already the leather on his gloves was beginning to tear and wear through from the frantic grasping and scraping along rusted and sharp metal girders and reinforcing bars. Hoping that his gloves — or at least his hands — would hold up for the final climb, he swung his body around at the edge of the building, swinging his whole body from his fingers while looking up to the wall he needed to climb.

It was probably some sort of public works building, road maintenance or something similar, with no expense nor aesthetic design considered when creating its concrete facade or square utilitarian windows. The plain wall made it harder to climb, but at least the windows were wide and low, long since smashed out to allow for a stealthy entrance. Finding finger holds that were bordering on precarious he pulled himself up to the lower window, jumping the rest of the way and catching his fingers on the window ledge.

Drawing a knife from his belt he pulled himself up with one hand to peer over the edge of the window. Just one Shinra trooper, leaning against the window sill with his rifle in his lap and a bored stare at the wall opposite. The fire fight had died down it seemed, the echoes of gunfire not being heard since he had reached the building.

Reaching up with his knife, he sliced through the poor trooper’s spine, as much to make sure that he could not cry out in shock as anything else. He pulled the man out the window, leaving him to fall to his death in the slums below while he nonchalantly climbed through the window, wiping the bloodied knife on the wall and sheathing it back into his belt.

The room led out to one large front entrance with three troopers entrenched at the windows, heavy machine guns set up to fire on any of his friends that were unfortunate enough to cross their field of fire. Of course, such tunnel vision on the battlefield had its drawbacks as well. The first trooper barely made a sound when his neck was broken from behind. The second had not noticed, did not even look up from his position until the knife had opened his throat. The third looked up at the desperate gurgling, only for a heavy punch to throw him back against the wall, the concrete cracking like a spider web from the impact of his skull.

“I’m clear here. How’s your position?”

“We found the bomb,” came the reply, the voice accompanied by a background of gunfire and shouts. “It’s at the pillar! They’re going to bring down the plate!”

Sector 5, not Sector 7. It was an unwelcome chill, not just a horrible feeling of deja vu and nightmare fuelling memories, but the realisation that the genocidal dropping of a plate was not an unusual thought in Shinra strategy.

But he could stop it this time. Jumping over the abandoned machine guns and bodies of the dead troopers and out the window he hit the ground running, pulling the oversized staff from his back as he went. Concrete pillars and jagged bars of metal flew past as he made his way to Zack’s position. Flashes of blue were swarming the walkway that spiralled around the pillars, every so often clashing with the two darker figures on the opposite side — their backup, Essai and Sebastian. He could see Zack on the adjacent railway lines, neck deep in reinforcements that were pouring out of the tunnel, his staff swinging wide arcs that were taking down two or three troopers at a time.

Then Zack stumbled, tripping over the rails just as a spray of blood erupted from his chest. He’d been hit.

“Zack!”

The troopers turned to him as he yelled, now that their previous target had tumbled from the tracks, crumpling into the scaffolding below.

He just ran, ignoring the echoes of gunfire around him, running until he could see Zack lying motionless on the scaffolding. Channeling all the power he could muster into his bracer he leaped from the edge of the highway, flinging out a small ball of fire as his body was hurled across the chasm.

The fireball exploded above him as he landed, the bodies of unlucky troopers raining down around him as he ungracefully slammed into the trusses, bending and breaking the metal to slow his momentum.

“C’mon, Zack…” he muttered while traversing the twisted metal to his fallen friend. Where the bullets may have failed, the rusting infrastructure had succeeded, bringing a powerful SOLDIER down with nothing more than badly placed re-bar.

“Leave me,” Zack said, the words gurgled through the blood flowing from his mouth. “Finish the mission.”

Zack was right. Even as he knelt down to help, he knew there was nothing he could do for his friend. “I’m sorry, Zack.”

“Don’t be.” Zack gave him one last, blood smeared smile. “Denzel, you’re doing great.”

Letting his mentor’s body slide back to the ground, he picked up his staff once again. “Essai,” he called through the radio. “Zack’s down. I’m going for the bomb…” He frowned, distracted by a ringing coming from Zack’s body. His cellphone?

“Dammit,” Zack grumbled, jumping to his feet and pulling the offending phone from his pocket. “It’s Sephiroth. Alright, mission end.”

“Hey,” Denzel said with a chuckle as Zack was distracted by fumbling with the controls. “I can see through you.” He poked a finger into the bullet hole, the illusion broken when it was stopped by Zack’s very real body.

“Hey!” Zack said, putting the phone to his ear. “Stop poking my mortal wound. You should get to your barracks and pack, this is gonna take a while.”

“Yes, sir,” Denzel said with a grin, giving him a sloppy salute before joining his teammates at the other end of the training room.

 

* * *

 

It was like the first day of school, nervous wonder overshadowed by ominous dread and self-doubt.

Denzel was clearing the possessions out of his locker, the door hanging slightly too low where, fumbling with tightly wound nerves, he had nearly ripped it from its hinges after the shoddy lock refused to open. A reminder of how drastically his strength had increased over the past month, and how little control he had over it.

“This is it, then?” a voice called from behind the sagging door, one that he recognised as belonging to Cain, his towering squad-mate and one time antagonist.

“You’re not leaving without saying goodbye, are you?” Distracted by the voice, he had not noticed Cecil, another squad-mate and rival of Cain, had circled around the lockers until the voice from behind his back made him jump.

“I was hoping to just sneak out,” Denzel said with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Leaving us all alone?” Cecil clutched his hand to his heart in a theatrical swoon. “How are we going to get broken bones in training, now?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage somehow.”

“Won’t be nearly as fun without you to beat us up,” Cain reached out and ruffled Denzel’s messy hair, much to the smaller boy’s annoyance.

Denzel dropped the clothes he was holding into his bag and looked at the two other boys. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

“Well…” Cecil grinned, rolling up his sleeve to show the tightly bound bandages. “I heard Sergeant Klauser saying they were going to have to give you Cure materia so you could clean up after your own messes.”

Denzel raised an eyebrow. “What messes?”

“Like what you did to Cecil’s face.”

“He didn’t do anything to my face.”

“Oh, it’s been like that all along?”

Denzel fought the urge to bang his head against his locker. Their snide jabs could go on for hours if he wasn’t careful and he had a schedule to keep. Dropping the last of his possessions into the rucksack he swung all his worldly possessions over his shoulder and left the two to their bickering.

If only it were that easy. No sooner than he’d cleared the room the two were at his side again, flanking him as he walked.

“You won’t forget us when you’re in SOLDIER, right?”

“I’ll remember that you beat me up when I joined.” Sliding his shiny new SOLDIER keycard into the door, Denzel slipped through the opening and shut it before the two could follow.

It wasn’t that he really resented the two, or any of the other squad-mates that had picked a fight with him, but it was the two-faced nature of their attempts to cozy up to him after he had been promoted to SOLDIER. Yet they were far from the worst — at least Cain didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t a snide, sarcastic bastard and Cecil had never shown him animosity in the first place, but others in the barracks had tried to weasel up to him in the worst way, some going as far as bribing him with surprise gifts.

It was just another way to make him feel like he didn’t belong, just in a more outwardly positive way. Maybe that’s what Cloud meant by always being an outsider.

In the last few months, his adopted father had opened up to him about his days in the Shinra military, from his first unit as a fresh recruit to his final mission as a specialist before the tragedy of Nibelheim. He had talked about the bullying he had received upon his arrival to, in shamed tones, the bullying he had participated in so that he could fit into the group. How the military was worse than a high school, where the problem came more often from superior officers than not, leaving the teenage recruits with no one to turn to. A fact Cloud had imparted on him in that smoky, ominous tone he did so well: even with the ongoing Wutai war, Shinra lost more soldiers to suicide than to combat.

Yet Cloud had been an outsider just from being a bit different, too small, too weak, hair too weird. All very normal compared to being an orphan from the future with alien DNA.

Well, the orphan from the future part was still weird, but at least now he was in SOLDIER the alien cells would be par for the course. Well… technically, Cloud was also an orphan from the future. Somehow, the thought that he wasn’t entirely unique was scarier than if he had been. It meant the world was a far weirder place than it had any right to be.

“Hey, Denzel right?”

Denzel stopped to look over his shoulder at the voice, a dark-haired SOLDIER that he recognised from the morning’s training hurrying down the corridor to meet him.

“Sebastian.”

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re looking for the barracks?”

“Yeah.”

“I moved in yesterday. Come on, I’ll show you where it is.”

He followed the other boy to their new barracks, another bland room of sickly paint stamped right out of Shinra’s room template. At least this one had space, however. Rather than the bare walls and sagging wire bunk beds, this room was split up with office dividers surrounding each bed to give a cozy illusion of privacy. Each ‘room’ had a thick curtain hanging over the entrance to act as a door, two of which had already been pulled to one side. Picking one of the unclaimed rooms closest to the entrance, Denzel dropped his bag on his new bed and took a look at the room.

It was certainly a step up from the infantry barracks. The bed was still a single of course, but at least it was an actual bed, with a wooden frame and a proper mattress to boot. A freestanding wardrobe was taking up one corner of the room, while opposite the bed a small desk was placed against the false walls. Ominously, there was already a neat little stack of paper right in the middle of the desk.

“Swanky digs, huh?”

Denzel jumped at the voice behind him, turning to glare with intent at Zack.

“The old third class barracks,” Zack went on with a smug grin and somewhat condescending tone. “Don’t worry, in no time you’ll be able to work your way up to having walls!”

“At least we have these,” Denzel commented, tapping one of the fake walls with his knuckles.

“Yeah, but it can be good and bad. Sometimes you forget that they don’t stop sound at all and… anyway, you’ll find out one night.”

Late at night? Did he mean if they… brought someone back to the barracks? But they only had single beds… Faced with the possibility of being caught out not knowing something he should, Denzel just swallowed his confusion and nodded at Zack like he knew what the other SOLDIER — fellow SOLDIER, _his_ fellow SOLDIER! — was talking about.

“Zack! You came all this way and didn’t say hi?”

“Seb! Actually, I was dropping by to see you, give my congrats and all that.” Zack held up a small hip flask on the word ‘congrats’. “Was just surprised to see Mouse already here.”

“Mouse?” Denzel asked.

“It’s your new nickname!” Zack exclaimed happily, reaching a hand out to ruffle Denzel’s already messy hair. “Your hair makes you look like a cartoon mouse.”

“Thanks, man,” Sebastian replied as Denzel frantically tried to bat Zack’s hand away from his head. He grabbed the flask and took a quick swig. “Whiskey?” he coughed, handing it back.

“Tradition.” Zack grinned, taking a swig from the flask himself. “Everyone has to drink whiskey when they’re promoted.”

“Which you just happened to have,” Denzel said as his turn to swig from the flask came around. All the words left him the moment the liquid touched… no, _burnt_ his throat and left him in a hacking and coughing splutter, bent over nearly double as Zack laughed and patted his back.

“Of course I got some. I’ve got to take care of my newbies, right?” Taking the flask from Denzel’s hand, he passed it over to Sebastian.

“Sorry, can’t,” Sebastian said, pushing the proffered drink away. “Not supposed to have anything before going to the med bay.”

“Oh, you’re getting your injection today?” Zack asked. “Nervous?”

“Yeah, a little,” Sebastian said. “I heard the new head of the Science Department was pretty scary.”

“He’s not!” Zack said. “He’s nice, you’ll like him.”

“Zack has a crush on him,” Denzel offered.

“Hey!”

“You guys know him?” Sebastian asked.

“Wait,” Zack said, scratching his chin. “You know Cloud as well. I saw you talking to him in the training room after he was made director.”

Sebastian’s eyes made a valiant attempt to escape their sockets. “ _Cloud?!_ ”

Zack nodded. Denzel was just thankful that Sebastian hadn’t been taking a drink.

“Short, spiky Cloud with the chip on his shoulder?”

“You probably shouldn’t call him short to his face,” Denzel said.

“He’s the new head of the Science Department?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure if that should make me less terrified, or more.”

“I’ve been having my injections for a while,” Denzel admitted. “They’ve all been pretty easy.”

“Oh, so that’s how you know him?”

“Uh, yeah.” He shot Zack a meaningful look. “He’s the one doing all my injections.”

Zack just responded with a sly wink before slinging an arm around Sebastian’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s not so bad,” he said. “I’ll show you the way.”


	28. It's Difficult to Stand on Both Feet

**December 11 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“You didn’t get the injection?” Denzel asked. Zack and Sebastian had returned only a short time after they had left for Sebastian’s mako injection and he was notably missing the sickly green tinge of the newly injected.

“They said they weren’t doing any today,” Sebastian said with a shrug.

Zack grinned. “That just means it won’t interfere with your drinking tonight!”

Denzel looked between Zack and Sebastian, raising a nervous yet curious brow. “Drinking?”

“Yeah, it’s tradition,” Zack said, the grin disappearing into a serious expression. “When you get promoted to your new class.”

“We’re going to have some hideous training in the morning, aren’t we?” Sebastian said, giving Zack an accusing look.

Zack said nothing, not even the hint of a curl at his lips.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Denzel said, much to Zack’s delight. “I’d better ask, uh- nevermind, I just need to make a call first.”

Flipping his phone out from his pocket, he backed off into the corner and dialled Cloud. “Hi, uh- dad. I’m going out with my new squad, so I’ll be sleeping over in the barracks.”

Slipping the phone into his pocket, he returned to the others. “Got the voicemail,” he explained with a sheepish grin.

“Well, with that sorted, you can be off! Fang Bar, 30 minutes. Go!”

“You’re not coming with us?” Sebastian resisted Zack’s attempts to shove them through the door, fixing a wary eye on the older SOLDIER.

“Nope, that’s tradition too!”

“I’ve got a feeling there’s a lot of ‘traditions’ we’re going to have to endure,” Sebastian said with dismay as they were ushered out the door.

Essai was there to meet them at the entrance to the Shinra building, explaining to them that the rest of the squad had already taken the first train and that he had waited behind. They walked down to the train station together, the darkness of Midgar giving way to the marginally different darkness of night as they made their way through the few blocks to the trains, boarding the first one they could find to the slums.

Denzel’s suspicions rose when they ordered their tickets to Sector 7. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to afford the prices of an above-plate bar like he could, but surely it wasn’t worth the risk of going down to the slums in full Shinra uniform, was it? The others didn’t seem to find any of it strange, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

The train ride was sedate, lumbering through the railroads and junctions that he had been fighting on in virtual reality only that morning. He could see the Sector 5 pillar, intact and bustling with Spaghetti Junction wrapped around the concrete supports. They passed through the rail track where Zack had been shot, onwards to Sector 7 where the real tragedy had taken place.

It was an ongoing problem that both he and Cloud shared — seeing places that should have been destroyed, intact. Cloud said it had been worse than seeing dead friends come to life, because while the people never really left you, when the places around you changed it felt like the world had changed. He’d never been old enough to know the slums before Meteorfall, nor could he remember the trains or the bustle of Midgar, but as the landmarks went past they called out to him, shoving their wrongness in his face and forcing him to confront it.

Wall Market went past, a place he had only ever known as a warning, yet somehow seeing it in one piece screamed out to him that it was wrong. The train had slowed now, winding down through the network of steel until it screeched to a halt at the Sector 7 station. The doors opened and they fanned out, into the dust and squalor that was so familiar in the slums, yet still so unfamiliar to Denzel.

“You’ve never been to the slums before?”

Denzel turned with an embarrassed start, looking up at the questioning face of Sebastian. He must have looked like a tourist, wide questioning eyes taking everything in. “No, I haven’t,” he lied. Better to think him green than the truth.

“That means you’ve never been to a slum bar,” Essai said with a grin, slapping him on the back. “You’re in for a pleasant surprise, then.”

Somehow the word ‘pleasant’ didn’t fit into that sentence well at all. Their group travelled through what would be laughably described as the safe and upmarket part of the slum, winding through the shanties until they found Fang Bar.

Fang Bar was very much born of the slums, built from mismatched materials that had been obviously scavenged from other buildings and the refuse piles that seemed ubiquitous below Midgar’s plate. Like Sector 7 itself it was built piecemeal, extending piece by piece to become one of the largest bars in Midgar.

Despite the rough exterior, inside the bar was decently furnished, though the mismatched nature of the walls couldn’t be hidden. Cheap furniture was plentiful, as well several larger well-constructed booths that hinted at the amount of money that passed through the place on a daily basis. The bar lined an entire wall, with several bartenders serving patrons that were stacked three deep at places.

“Let’s find a booth,” Essai said to them over the growing din. After pushing through crowds of people and awkwardly trying to move in some semblance of a group, or at least a chain, they managed to find a recently vacated booth, large enough to fit the six of them.

“You guys haven’t met,” Essai said when they were finally seated. “This is Denzel and Sebastian. And these are Josef, Gordon and Ricard.”

Murmured greetings and handshakes followed, with Denzel already forgetting two out of the three names by the time they had been finished. He only hoped he could remember them by the end of the night — though with the alcohol promised it was going to be a miracle if he could remember anything by the end of the night.

“Are other companies coming too?” Denzel asked.

“I think there’s three of us,” Ricard replied. “We’re supposed to stick to groups, but everyone wears uniforms so we can tell who’s here.”

“Makes it sound so official.”

“Well,” said Essai, grinning like the cat with the cream as he held up a credit card with a prominently displayed Shinra logo. “It kinda is.”

All reservations seemed to go out the window at the announcement that the drinks would be paid for by the company — to Denzel, that explained more than anything why they had to go to a cheap bar in the slums — and the drinks started flowing soon after that. Denzel was introduced to new concepts such as flaming shots, drinking rules — which seemed to be rather unfairly enforced — and towards the end of the night, drinking games. A rather illuminating game called ‘Never Have I Ever’ left him knowing a lot more about his squad-mates than he was really comfortable with. But that was the point, he supposed.

“Damn, Denzel,” Essai said. “Have you done _anything_ interesting?”

“Yes I have!” Denzel said defensively… and a little too loud. Maybe they were just annoyed he hadn’t been drinking as much as the rest of them.

“Well, since you haven’t kissed anyone — either you have to kiss someone in this bar by the end of the night, _or_ …”

“Or what?”

“ _Or_ you have to kiss Sebastian.”

“Why me?!”

“You know why, pretty boy.”

And that was how Denzel ended up in one of the most awkward common experiences a young man can have. He was generally a shy kid, even when drunk, and none of the advances he made seemed to make any difference — not helped by the fact he wasn’t interested.

Once his squad-mates had supplied him with enough alcohol to bolster his courage, he decided on the only sensible course of action. He wasn’t going to enjoy it no matter the circumstances, so he might as well drag the bastard who put him up to it into the misery too.

Grabbing Essai by his shirt, he pulled the other boy into a long, deep kiss. It was awkward, wet and sloppy and by the end of it Denzel couldn’t help but wonder what all the fuss was about. It wasn’t particularly fun or horrifying, it was just… nothing. It made him feel nothing.

“Dammit, Denzel!” Essai spluttered, much to the amusement of the other boys, Sebastian in particular.

Denzel grinned. Revenge was sweet.

By the time last call was announced, they were all barely able to stand, each of them holding each other up in a chain of arms and stumbling as the left the bar. They were the last group of new SOLDIERs to leave, each of them deciding that ‘one more round’ involved three more rounds and some sort of vodka drink “for the road”. The slums had cleared out by the time they stumbled out of the bar, not even a homeless man shuffling from one alley to the next to be found. None of them noticed the eerie quiet or deserted streets, happily stumbling, yelling and singing as they made their way back through the streets.

“Hey, is this the way we’re meant to go?” Denzel slurred, shifting his grip on the two boys next to him. “I don’t remember this place.”

“Do you remember your name?” Essai laughed from the end of the chain, apparently not aware that he was in an even worse state. They were all worse off than Denzel, not having his long term mako fuelled resistance to poisons.

“Bad part of town to get lost in, Shinra dogs.”

Oh, that couldn’t be good. Swivelling his head from side to side, he made out nearly a dozen rough looking thugs emerging from the alleys to either side of the street. They shouldn’t have been a problem for even unarmed green SOLDIER recruits, but this plastered? They didn’t stand a chance.

“Wh- what do you want?” Denzel asked.

“We want a lot of things, Shinra. We want you scum out of our lives. But we’re just gonna send a message to your masters.”

Denzel quickly flicked his head side to side, trying to see how his comrades were doing. They all looked like they had sobered up very quickly, but had not even stopped to unlink their arms. Sebastian even looked like he was going to suffer an unfortunate accident when two of the thugs presented weapons they had been hiding and advanced on them.

“Oh, how very cliche!”

Denzel froze, the refined voice calling to them sending a chill up his spine. He knew that voice, even his drunken haze could not stop him from placing it.

Genesis.

“Could you not have said you wanted peace, a life untouched by corruption, to be out from under the boot of a tyrant?” In a single fluid motion, Genesis dropped from the rooftop and landed with a flourish, Rapier pointing towards their group, a red beacon of light in the dark. “But no, it seems you want a life untouched by _poetry_.”

One thing Denzel had learned from Cloud was that alcohol slows your reaction time, but he never mentioned just how bad it was when you were trying to follow a First Class SOLDIER. One of the thugs had charged him, pipe raised high and he could not follow what happened next, only that the thug and three of his friends were sprawled on the ground clutching apparently broken parts of their bodies. Genesis seemed to chain himself from thug to thug, breaking them in a blur off speed and sending them to the ground one by one until finally none were left, only the six drunken SOLDIERlings standing in front of a semi-circle of groaning slum dwellers.

“Oh, the first day of a new class,” Genesis said with a wistful sneer as he holstered his sword back to his hip. “How I missed cleaning up after your lot.”

“What do you want, Genesis?” Denzel would have said if he was not terrified and glued to the spot, his arms increasing to a death grip around the poor necks of his comrades. Instead, it just came out as a hushed whimper with the phantom feeling of the stab wound along his chest aching.

“Don’t worry, little one.” Genesis strode forward, flicking half of his coat to the side and pulling out a small, plain white envelope. “I just have something I wanted you to give to your father.”

“What is it?” Denzel said, trying to peer through the drunken haze to find any distinguishing feature of the envelope.

“It’s an apology. Tell Cloud that I did not mean… I did not want it to go down like that- and I am sorry to you, as well.” Genesis seemed uncomfortable at the apology, a strange look on a man that Denzel had only ever seen as confident and controlling. “It was… well, there is little I can say. I am glad you have recovered.”

With a curt nod, Genesis placed the envelope in Denzel’s hand and turned to leave, only looking over his shoulder to give some final parting words before he disappeared down an alleyway. “Just keep going straight ahead, you’ll get to the train station from there.”

The young SOLDIERs just stood there for a moment, the awkward adrenaline rush sobering them up in mind but still leaving the effects of the alcohol on their body.

“That was… Genesis?” One of them asked from down the line.

“Yeah.”

“And you know… he apologised to… what?”

“I fought him when he broke into my apartment,” Denzel said as he tried to get their train of drunken arms moving again. “He cut me up pretty bad.”

“No shit,” Sebastian mumbled next to him. “Wait, didn’t Genesis break into the science director’s apartment? Wait… he’s your father? Wait… _Cloud_ is your _dad_?”

“Don’t say it like _that_ ,” Denzel grumbled.

The journey to the train was more silent and sombre after that, the other boys too drunk to question what had happened or even piece together more of the evidence they had just witnessed. They just sat, one by one in silence on the seat of the train as their impaired minds tried to come to terms with what had happened.

Denzel, too, sat in the silence, worried not just for what had happened, but what the other boys had seen happen. Sebastian had already pieced together that Cloud was his father… but everything about the night. They had got drunk, got really drunk… then they got attacked in an alley, and Genesis had saved them… saved _him_ more likely, he didn’t seem like the type to just swoop down and save a bunch of green SOLDIERs from getting beaten up. Then the man had given him an apology letter to give to Cloud and, most of all, apologised to him for the gutting he had been given two months earlier.

“I should probably deliver this,” Denzel said, holding up the letter as they walked back into the Shinra building. They stumbled into the elevator together, Denzel drawing a few confused stairs as he hit the button for the executive apartments — and more dumbfounded looks when he swiped his card and it worked. Maybe he could have got off at another level and taken a different elevator, but at this point it was only a matter of time before they figured it out.

The others left at their floor, some mumbled goodnights as the teenagers left the elevator and supported each other down the corridor, leaving Denzel alone in the elevator as the doors closed and it trundled its way up Shinra Tower.

He walked down the hallway and entered the apartment as quietly as he could without trying to seem to be walking quietly, his brain seeming to focus on how he was a teenager coming home drunk at — he checked the clock on the wall, 4am — and how every footstep seemed too heavy, every door opening too loud, and the more carefully he concentrated on being quiet, the louder and creakier everything seemed to be.

He stood in the kitchen with the lights off for a while, envelope in hand as he weighed the merits of waking Cloud up to show him the letter. On the one hand, Cloud would be mad at him for staying out all night drinking, on the other hand Cloud would probably be even madder if he didn’t give him the envelope immediately just because he was scared of getting in trouble for drinking.

Logic won out, or at least the part of Denzel’s brain that knew Cloud would forgive him, or at least ignore his transgressions in the light of what had happened. Striding with a new found confidence, he gently opened the door to Cloud’s room and flicked on the light.

Huh. His bed was empty.

“Cloud?” he called, just in case. No response.

Shrugging to himself, he dropped the note on the bedside table and walked up to his own room, dropping into his bed and off to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	29. Tailed

**December 11 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

The train station was empty, not unusual for such a cold Midgar morning. The few people to brave the cold December weather huddled in their coats, keeping close to the shelter as they waited for the train to come. The snowfall during the night was just starting to be cleared away, squat trucks with flashing amber lights roaming the streets as they worked.

In the off-white world devoid of human life, it wasn’t surprising that he spotted Reno immediately. His shockingly red hair stood out like a cherry on a navy blue sundae. Cloud moved around the shelter, wishing that he had been smart enough to bring a hat. The Turks had been increasing their surveillance — probably on the President’s orders — and it was foolish to think he could keep slipping them so easily.

“Hey Cloud! Wait up!”

It looked like Reno was planning to be about as subtle as Cloud’s hair. He gave up on trying to hide himself behind the shelter and walked out in the open to greet the jogging Turk, who had barely enough time to slow down to avoid barreling into him. Reno looked uncertain for a moment, like he had no idea what to say now that he had caught up.

“Hey, uh… where are you going?”

“Just… meeting someone down in the slums.”

“Well, I’m tailin’ you today,” Reno said without a hint of irony. He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave Cloud his usual shit-eating grin. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

Cloud looked back over the station, to where the fetid, soot washed snow was slowly melting on the tracks. “Sure,” Cloud said, gesturing to where the train wasn’t. “I’ll race ya through the tunnel.”

Cloud shot Reno a wry grin, and though Reno huffed, he returned it.

“Yeah, yeah. Wait for the train. Got it.”

“You’re my assistant still, right? You could always carry me.”

“Real funny…”

“I thought so.”

They heard the train before they saw it, of course, the mako powered engine hissing steam and the screeching steel cacophony of locked brakes reaching them well before the black metal monstrosity turned the final corner into the station. It thundered to a stop before the waiting passengers, who filed into the carriages as mechanically as the locomotive that would take them to their destination. Reno lead Cloud down to the last carriage where on a few people had decided to sit. A stern glare from Reno and a glance at his blue suit were all that was needed for them to decide that a seat up front was a brilliant idea for this journey.

“Much better,” Reno said with a smirk. He kicked back in his seat, resting his feet on the seat in front. Cloud slouched into the seat next to him, feeling that mixture of ease and tension that always came from being near Reno. Future Reno, anyway, though the feeling was bleeding back into this one.

“Well, I kinda have a confession to make,” Reno said.

For once, the puckish Turk looked thoughtful, almost pensive. He twirled the handle of his baton in his hand and looked everywhere but at Cloud.

“When we first met, I got asked to look into ya.”

Cloud snorted, “I know what Turks do.”

“Yeah,” Reno said with a brief, but hollow chuckle. “You would.”

Cloud raised an eyebrow. What was that supposed to mean?

“I found your locker. The one in the slums.”

Cloud’s heart skipped a beat. His mind immediately set about cataloguing what he had stored there and what trouble it could cause him. His clothes… a bit unusual but nothing incriminating. His…

“I saw your phone, and… well, ok, it sounds stupid saying it, but… you’re from the future, right?”

Of course. He knew his phone would give it away, that was precisely why he hadn’t taken it to Shinra with him. Not just the technology of the phone, which wouldn’t be developed for another five or six years, but the pictures and videos he’d taken with him just in case… well, just in case he had to prove he was really from the future. Way to be careful, Cloud.

“Yeah,” Cloud admitted, “I am.”

“And we…?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn.”

Reno’s gaze stayed fixed on the floor as he slowly shook his head. The train was slowing down for another station, the cabin filling with the sound of tearing metal.

When it was over, Reno asked, “Can you tell me what happened? I mean, I saw a lot of shit, but… I don’t know _why_ , y’know?”

Cloud ended up telling him everything on the ride down, starting from him waking up on that bloodstained cliff overlooking Midgar. Their chase of Sephiroth all over the world, the death of the President, the rise of the Weapons and the fall of Midgar. He even made sure to include some extra stories about the Turks, particularly the change of heart they had over that year, as Meteor approached, and their work with Rufus to repair the damage Shinra had caused.

“So, what’s your plan?” Reno finally asked.

“My plan?”

“Yeah. You know all this shit’s gonna go down, so you’re gonna stop it, right? Take out Shinra or something?”

“I don’t really have a plan for that,” Cloud answered, only half-truthfully. “I’d like to stop my friends from dying… keep Denzel safe. That’s about as far as I got.”

“Well, I’m in, right?” Reno said, finally looking Cloud in the eye. He folded his arms and took a deep breath. “I’ll try to get the other Turks in, too.”

“I don’t want people knowing I’m from the future,” Cloud said.

“Why not?”

“It’s awkward. Having to explain the history… future, whatever, of the world. Having to prove it happened. Besides, if some people find out…”

“You mean Sephiroth?”

“Any of the SOLDIERs, really.”

“Well, I’ll try, ok? You can count on me.”

“Thanks, Reno,” Cloud said, well aware that Reno was the sort of person he definitely could _not_ count on. Especially if involved the line ‘pay you back in a few days’.

The train entered their station with its usual wail. The air was warmer in the slums, the plate above ‘protecting’ it from the outside climate — and fresh air. If human misery had a smell, you could experience it in the slums of Midgar.

“Look, I gotta go…” Reno said, with a slight nervous shuffle of his feet. Cloud snorted. So much for tailing him. “We’ve gotta track down an escaped prisoner.”

Cloud raised an eyebrow.

“It’s uh… OK, I guess I shoulda told you,” Reno said. He refused to meet Cloud’s eyes. “Cissnei was looking into your hometown, and someone followed her back. We were questioning her, but… she escaped. Disappeared, really… right out of her cell.”

“Reno. Who?”

“Uh… your friend. Tifa. Tifa Lockheart. Uh… hey, Cloud… you alright?”

Cloud clutched his head. Of course, how could he ever escape ruining Tifa’s life, no matter what world he was in? “When did it happen?”

“Coupla days ago,” Reno said. He dithered at the edge of the station platform, looking back to Cloud. “Sorry man… I, uh… sorry.”

Cloud sank to the steps, burying his head in his hands.


	30. Under the Apple Tree

**December 12 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Why were there people walking through his head?

Denzel crawled up in his bed, throwing the sheets off and blinking blearily in the morning light. Ugh, his mouth felt dry, his head was killing him and for some reason the room decided to move every time he shifted.

Then there was that banging again.

It took him a moment or two to realise that it was coming from the front door — and Cloud had not come home last night. Leaping from his bed, he ran the rest of the way down the stairs and into the hallway.

He opened the door to a confused looking Zack, that quickly changed to a terribly amused looking Zack.

“Uh, hi,” Denzel greeted, now realising that he was standing in his boxers with the door wide open, an expectant look on his face — though the expectant look didn’t last for long, quickly shifting into mortified. “Come in,” he practically growled, quickly trying to usher the other SOLDIER inside. At least Zack was making an effort to stifle his laughter.

“Why are you here?” Denzel snapped, folding his arms over his bare chest and trying to hide the creeping blush on his cheeks.

“Sorry… but it doesn’t look like you had a great night.” Zack paused and peered closer at Denzel. “Or you had a really good night. But I was looking for Cloud.”

“Yeah, he didn’t come home last night.” Denzel wondered how he could slip away to get dressed and _wow_ was it really cold in here or was it just him?

“He didn’t show up to work this morning.”

Denzel froze. “He didn’t show up?” He could remember trying to reach Cloud on his phone before going out, but not being able to contact him. That was odd for Cloud, he’d been jumping on every single phone call or text from Denzel since Genesis had broken into their apartment.

“No, I tried to call him to talk about your mission today.”

“So there _was_ a mission today.” Denzel could barely see Zack’s smirk through his narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, it’s your first official mission. I’ll be taking you out on the field.”

“But what about Cloud?”

Zack sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. If I didn’t have this mission I’d try to look for him. We’re going to be briefed in half an hour, I’m hoping that I can convince the CO to let us look for him. He’s a missing executive, right?”

Denzel shrugged, the doubt gnawing at him. If Cloud disappeared, his worry was that Shinra knew exactly where he was.

“I hope so. Where are we going?”

“I don’t know. We’ll get told at our briefing.”

Denzel looked around the room, feeling rather small standing on the tile barefoot and nearly naked talking to Zack. Well, he could feel self-conscious later. If nothing else, the opportunity to convince their commanding officer — whoever that was — that searching for Cloud would be a better use of their time was a good starting point.

“Hey, Denzel?”

“Yeah?”

“Looks like the training’s paying off,” Zack said, grinning and pressing his finger into Denzel’s now defined abs.

It felt like his ears had caught on fire.

 

* * *

 

“He didn’t come back last night?”

“I didn’t see him,” Denzel shrugged. “I called his office, he didn’t show up at all.”

“Would he have just left?” Zack was pacing a hole in the carpet at this point. The two of them were occupying the briefing room, supposedly waiting for their first official mission together in SOLDIER as mentor and student, but instead more worried about the sudden disappearance of Cloud.

“Not without telling me. Not unless it was important.” Denzel slid back into his chair, trying to seem relaxed despite his body being stiffer than a cactaur’s spines.

Zack stopped his pacing and yanked a chair from under the table, flopping bonelessly into the leather seat once it had stopped spinning. “I don’t like this.”

“First Genesis—” Denzel fingered the note in his pocket as he spoke. “Now this…”

Taking the note out for the umpteenth time that hour, he looked over the contents once again. It had been sealed in an envelope, and while he had no wish to even be perceived as slighting Genesis, he had opened it to look as soon as he had realised Cloud was missing. Unfortunately, the note had provided no explanation, just a stiff, flowery apology from Genesis that tried to both apologise and at the same time avoid admitting doing anything wrong. The red SOLDIER probably would have been a better politician than a warrior.

Folding the note back into its envelope, Denzel just managed to shove it back into his pocket before the door slid open, a familiar figure striding through, trailing silver hair and black leather behind him as he walked.

“Zack, Denzel,” Sephiroth greeted, standing stiffly at the entrance.

“Sir!” Zack said, pulling up in a quick salute. “You’re back?” He had not seen Sephiroth since that night in Cloud’s apartment, the legendary First having been rapidly called to Wutai’s front lines to turn the tides of Shinra’s war, leaving Zack and the other Seconds as the only ones leading the entire contingent of Midgar’s SOLDIERs.

“I arrived last night, but-” Sephiroth cleared his throat.

“Oh, sorry!” Denzel said in panic as he realised he had been sitting in the officer’s chair at the head of the table. He scrambled from the seat — putting the table in between himself and the world’s enemy — and went over to Zack’s side, taking a seat by his mentor — who had himself hurriedly sat up in his seat, turning all his attention to the looming First.

“You are to be sent to Banora,” Sephiroth said as he sat down in the recently vacated chair. “It is the hometown of Genesis and Angeal, and we have reason to believe that they may have returned there. You are to accompany a member of the Turks who will be investigating. You are to act as protection only, unless you are otherwise requested.”

“Cloud’s missing,” Zack blurted out, to the surprise of Denzel and apparently, Sephiroth as well. “We haven’t been able to find him.”

Sephiroth schooled his surprise much better than the mousey-haired boy however, only raising an eyebrow as Zack dropped the news on him. “You are sure of this?”

“Yes, we’re sure! He hasn’t turned up to work today, and even Denzel can’t find him.”

“The Turks are also looking for him in relation to a prisoner that disappeared,” Sephiroth said with the sort of look that demanded a thoughtful scratch of chin. “However, it has only been a single day. He has been known to take unexpected trips.”

“Permission to look for him, sir?” Denzel asked once he had mustered a small semblance of courage.

“No, you are still needed in Banora.” Sephiroth turned to the inbuilt computer, ignoring the other two SOLDIERs in the room and typing rapidly into the keyboard. “I will check to see if he has left the Shinra building or if anyone has seen him. You are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir!” They had no choice but to salute and leave the room.

 

* * *

 

**December** **12** ** th ** **, [** **μ** **] –** **εγλ** **2000**

“So, Tseng, how-”

“Don’t talk to me when I’m flying.”

“Alright,” Zack whined, leaning back in the helicopter and instead turning his head to face Denzel. “I think he’s a bit grouchy.”

Denzel wisely did not say anything.

“This is boring!” Zack complained, fidgeting in his seat and trying his hardest not to poke at any of the controls on the console in front of him.

Denzel wisely continued his policy of not saying anything, indeed he kept just as quiet as Tseng until their transport touched down on the overgrown grass of Banora. With more complaining, though greater efficiency than Denzel had, Zack unstrapped himself and his equipment from the helicopter, dumping their bags and weapons into the soft grass before helping Denzel out.

“Looks like this place hasn’t seen anyone in a while,” Zack said as he scouted their landing zone.

“It is hard to see from the air,” Tseng said. “But many of the houses look untended. I want you two to split up and check houses. I will contact you if I need anything.”

Zack just shrugged at the retreating figure of the Turk, turning instead to Denzel and shoving a bag of equipment into his arms. “Well, I guess that means we’re on our own, Mouse.”

“Where should I go?”

“Just stick with me,” Zack said. “I know what he said, but I don’t want you going off alone on your first mission.”

The helicopter secure and their weapons ready, they trudged through the fields to Banora proper, the sleepy village under the hills that was the unlikely home of two of the most famous SOLDIERs in the world. Two of the SOLDIERs that had defected, no less. They reached the road soon enough, Denzel still checking every corner and shadow as if it would contain some sort of hideous, jawless monster ready to burst out at them at a moment’s notice. Zack just strolled beside him nonchalantly, looking somewhat amused at the younger SOLDIER’s jumpiness.

“You see anything, Zack?”

“Just an abandoned village. Which, yeah, I guess that’s pretty creepy.” He kicked an overturned barrel that had been blocking the street, spoiled and decaying apples spilling out over the rough dirt. “Like everyone left without a word.”

Each of the houses they checked were predictably abandoned themselves, some with stoves that had long since burned out, most of them with lights and appliances still on.

“It looks like they all left at once,” Denzel said.

“At night, too.”

“Night?”

“The lights and TVs. You don’t leave them on in the day, do you?”

“What happened here?” A stupid question perhaps, but it was the most important one Denzel could think of. For an entire village to disappear without a sign of struggle or battle was unheard of.

“Maybe Tseng needs to check for knockout gas or something.” Zack just shrugged and moved to the next house in the street. “I have no idea, this is way above my pay- hey, this is Angeal’s house.”

Zack pointed to the letterbox with the carefully stencilled name ‘Hewley’ on the side, the door to the house still cracked slightly open and swinging gently in the breeze. With a glance to Denzel, they both took their weapons in hand and approached the door.

With a nervous breath, Zack pushed open the door to his mentor’s childhood home. Like so many of the lower class houses they had investigated the singular room was small and cramped with every possible function crammed into the available space. One wall was a rudimentary stove and sink, shelves lined with tattered books and proudly framed photographs on another. But dominating the space in the room was a wooden dining table with seating for three, an older woman slumped over in her seat face down in a pool of blood.

“Is that… Angeal’s mother?” Denzel whispered from behind him.

“Yeah…” Zack replied softly, kneeling reverentially next to the woman. “He only had a few photos in his apartment, but she’s in all of them.”

“So he killed her, and… left his sword behind?”

“His sword?” Zack turned his head at that, following Denzel’s finger to the far side of the wall where the Buster Sword was lying forlorn against the stove.

“It’s clean,” Denzel informed his mentor as he pulled the sword away from the wall to inspect it. “No, wait… some blood has been recently wiped off, but it hasn’t been cleaned properly yet.”

“I should take it,” Zack whispered as he stood next to Denzel, though he made no move to pick up the blade. “It shouldn’t be left here.”

Denzel agreed; even he held the Buster Sword with a relic like reverence, though certainly for different reasons than Zack did.

“Tseng,” Zack called into the radio. “We found Angeal’s mother.”

_Wait there_ , was the immediate reply. _I’ll be down to check for evidence. Don’t touch anything._

“Zack?” Denzel looked puzzled at Zack, who was frantically unzipping one of the long equipment bags he carried and trying to fit the Buster Sword inside.

“I know.” Zack sighed as he forced the zip up. “I just don’t want the Turks getting their hands on it.”

Denzel remained quiet at Zack shoved the equipment bag out of the door, even complying as his own bag was taken from him and dumped on the sword as a way to hide the evidence. He stiffened as soon as the bag hit the ground, senses he was just getting used to telling him that something, or someone, dangerous was near.

“Zack,” he whispered.

“I know. I feel it too.”

The older SOLDIER pulled his sword from his back, scanning the area to ascertain where the threat was coming from.

“Zack,” a deep voice called from behind the building, followed by the appearance of Angeal several moments later. The large man was swinging a standard SOLDIER broadsword ahead of him, his eyes cast down and not meeting the emotional gaze of his pupil.

“You should have the sword,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I am too tainted to hold it.”

“You killed her!”

“That sword represents the honour of my family,” Angeal went on, not even flinching at Zack’s accusation. “I do not use it because it is not worth tarnishing my family’s honour with blood.”

“But you can kill your family with it?”

Angeal’s shoulders fell, the mask of the instructor slipping for just a moment. “I left it with her. If I can’t trust myself with my honour, who better than my mother?” He pulled the bag containing the Buster Sword to his face, resting his forehead against the canvas covered hilt as a wing of pure white feathers erupted from his back. “I tried my best to teach you, Zack. But now- I’m the last person you should look up to.”

“Don’t say that- Angeal, wait!” But it was too late, in a swift movement Angeal was out of Zack’s reach, taking flight over the heavy cliff that loomed over Banora.


	31. Banora

**December 12 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Angeal was here?”

Denzel looked between the distraught Zack and the stern faced Turk, reaching the conclusion that perhaps he should be the one to report here.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “He didn’t say much, and just left.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing important,” Zack said. “I think he wanted to make sure I didn’t follow him.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Tseng informed them, pointing to the large warehouse that dominated the far side of town. “It looks like they were based out of there. We’re going to inspect it,” he looked between the two SOLDIERS, “together.”

Denzel picked up the equipment packs for them, trying to keep an inconspicuous eye on Zack as he did so. The other teenager seemed to be taking the visit with his mentor rather badly, his face glum and even the spikes on his hair seeming to droop down in depression. All he could do was try and pick up the slack, including hiding the Buster Sword from the Turk.

The warehouse wasn’t exactly the most hidden base of operations that Genesis or Angeal could have chosen, the large building loomed over the small town of Banora. It would have been one the first places anyone would look, but evidently that was exactly what they had been going for. Vehicle tracks were freshly laid down on the road, bypassing the village and instead driving north out of the town towards Corel. Footprints were visible in the mud, a lot of them. Zack and Denzel shared a look, Zack taking his sword in hand and Denzel readying his staff. Tseng even drew his pistol from his jacket as they approached the door.

“Ready,” Tseng whispered, motioning to the door which Zack promptly kicked down. They moved into the room quickly, scanning for any enemies while fanning out in the large — apparently abandoned — warehouse.

“They’ve moved on already?” Zack asked, looking around at the bare concrete walls. The place had been stripped bare, apart from the large posters advertising Banora Apple Juice and the great juicing machines in the centre of the room.

“Look around. If Angeal is still here then Genesis can’t be far behind.”

Denzel was not as certain as the Turk was. Angeal and Genesis, now having met them both, seemed entirely different in their manners and their motivations. Why would Genesis, who seemed so calculating and insistent on revenge be teaming up with Angeal, who seemed to be sliding a slow descent into madness?

If anything made sense about this whole thing, it would be up to Cloud to figure out. From what he knew of the story, Angeal and Genesis _had_ been working together, but their roles had been reversed. Angeal had been holding on to what humanity he could while Genesis had begun a nose dive into madness and megalomania, trying to create an army of his clones and attack Shinra force for force.

“What did they use this place for?” Zack said, kicking over an old barrel full of apples.

“Making juice?”

Tseng gave Denzel a dirty look before returning to rummage through some of the desks on the side of the warehouse, looking for any papers that may have given a clue as to what went on in the hideout. Denzel just shrugged, it wasn’t like the Turk had any better idea than they did of what was going on.

Slinging his staff back into the holster, Denzel went to look at the machinery, running a leather gloved finger over the dust that had settled on the rubber of the closest conveyor belt.

“Maybe this wasn’t it,” he said. Tseng and Zack looked at him, curious. “Well, this stuff hasn’t been used. What if there’s a basement or something?”

Tseng nodded to Zack, and the two of them spread out around the room, looking over the walls and throwing some of the bookcases to the ground, trying to look for any hidden passages or secret doors.

Denzel just stood in the centre of the room, leaning against the machinery as the other two ransacked the place in their search. Surely if there were trucks there, it would have to be a large entrance… unless they carried out cargo through a crane, maybe?

“Hey, over here,” Denzel said, pointing to the roof. The structure of the warehouse went all the way to the top, but the walls didn’t. There was a gap between the wall and the roof on the far end where a crane could move cargo from one part of the partition to the other.

“Why no door?” Zack said as he begin to clamber up the side of the wall, using the shelves and posters for support until he was able to grip the edge and pull himself over. “Hey, look. A secret base.”

Denzel moved over to under him, helping to lift Tseng high enough for Zack to pull him over, after which he himself ran up the wall until he was high enough to reach Zack’s hand, grasping it and letting the other SOLDIER pull him over.

The room definitely had the secret base vibe about it, plenty of weird looking science equipment, tubes and papers scattered everywhere. It looked more like a secret lab than a base, in fact.

“That’s a mako infusion chamber,” Zack said, walking up to the massive tank and tapping on its glass. “For making SOLDIERs.”

“Not quite.” Tseng looked over the tank next to him. “There’s no mako. Whatever this is, it’s not something Shinra uses.”

“You sure about that?” Denzel muttered, only having the chance to look mortified by it once the words had escaped his mouth. Oh, that was not a good thing to say to a Turk. “I just mean… uh, I’m sure there’s plenty of stuff the Science Department has that we don’t know about. Sir.”

He wasn’t sure if that was just digging himself deeper or not, but Tseng wordlessly turned back to the chamber, giving a few experimental taps before leaving it alone to collect the scattered papers.

“What should we do, sir?” Zack asked once they had been standing around for long enough.

“I am calling in a team to check for more evidence,” Tseng said, not looking up from his work. “Wait for their transport, you may return to Midgar when they arrive.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

All three of them dropped what they were doing to look at the figure standing in the rafters above, red coat billowing out behind him as he held a magical ball of fire in one gloved hand.

“Genesis.” Denzel swore under his breath, moments before he was forced to leap out of the way of the exploding fireball. He hit the ground with a roll, desperately patting out the flames sprouting along his uniform as he got to his feet.

“My apologies,” Genesis said with a bow, stretching his black wing out in the cramped space of the rafters. “I have no wish to injure you, but I will not let Shinra get their hands on this.” He gave Denzel one last pointed look before leaping through the hole in the roof, his wing flapping powerfully behind him.

The flames were catching fast, the wooden framed warehouse proving to be the perfect ingredient for a flaming death trap. The smoke was already thick and black, fogging up his vision as he searched for the other two. He could see Zack struggling to his feet in the corner, and against the other wall-

Tseng was slumped against the glass tank, a thick smear of blood trailing down cracked glass to where his head hung listlessly.

Denzel rushed forward to get the Turk, only to be thrown back by a torrent of flames as one of the gas pipes burst, showering the area in a relentless spill of fire.

“Go!” he heard Zack shout over the rush of the flames. “I’ll get Tseng, just get out of here.”

He got back to his feet, covering his face with a sleeve to protect him from the blistering heat. He couldn’t see Tseng or Zack through the wall of flame, only hearing the other SOLDIER as he broke his way through the scattered furniture to reach the Turk.

He obeyed the order however, rushing towards the closest wall and slamming into it with his shoulder. He could feel the wood crack and splinter at the blow, but most importantly he could feel that there was no heat seeping through the wall. The fire was only on their side, for now.

He charged the wall again, breaking through the wood in a shower of dust and fragments and landing on the other side in a clumsy heap. Rolling over twice to make sure there were no more flames stuck to his clothes, he jumped to his feet and took another look at the back room he had come from.

The fire had spread to the ceiling quickly, cheerfully burning the ceiling trusses that were currently creaking and groaning under the weight and their weakened state. It had not spread down to the warehouse he was in, but at any moment the ceiling could give way and bury them all in a pile of flames and embers. He waited there for a few moments, hoping that any second Zack would come through the hole he created, carrying Tseng over his shoulder. He picked up the equipment bags they dropped earlier, slinging both over his shoulder as he slowly walked to the front of the door, his walk slowed even further by his constant checking over his shoulder for Zack.

He knew he should have been running, but loyalty was one thing Denzel didn’t do by halves. Every step he took closer to the entrance, was another thought he had to put down to drop everything and run back to help Zack.

The ceiling creaked loudly and shifted, the flames having finally eaten enough of the wooden supports to weaken the whole structure. Denzel took one look at the roof and ran, sprinting as fast as he could as the building fell down around him, huge flaming beams of wood smashing into the ground just steps away from where he was running.

He dove through the front entrance just as that too collapsed, only making it through the brute force of ramming the door out of his way with his shoulder. He was almost certain that he was on fire again, though at least he had narrowly escaped being crushed.

A few rolls and frantic pats of his uniform put the fires out, but Denzel did not let himself stop to catch a breath. He let go of the equipment bags and stood from the ground.

Only to find Tseng lying on the grass nearby, while Zack loomed over him with an incredibly unimpressed expression on his face.

“I told you to run.”

Denzel felt very short at that moment. He was only worried for Zack, after all, and…

“I went through the back wall,” Zack explained, his voice briefly a placating tone before he stole a look back at Tseng, his voice hardening. “But there is a _reason_ you are to listen to my _orders_ Denzel. You would have died, and for what?”

“I’m sorry, Zack.” He was, too. Zack was his mentor in SOLDIER now and he feared disappointing Zack nearly as much as he feared disappointing Cloud. It was beginning to seem that his teenage years were going to be just as everyone had described. He had been sure he was never going to be _that_ sort of teenager, that he was always going to make Cloud and Tifa proud.

It seemed like no matter how good his intentions were, his actions were never going to come out right.

“This is the last time you disobey an order of mine, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Even Zack seemed to wince at that. _Sir_.

“Let’s get going,” Zack said with a heavy sigh. “We need to call this in and get some transport out. Tseng’s not going to be flying anytime soon.”


	32. Anxious Heart

**December 11 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Why do I always find you lost and moping at train stations?”

Cloud jumped to his feet, eyes wide. Across the platform, one hand on her hip and wearing a cocky smirk was Tifa. His Tifa. She smiled at him as she approached, while he just stood there flabbergasted.

“Hi, Cloud.”

“You— why did you—?”

“Come on,” Tifa said, taking his arm. “We shouldn’t talk here.”

It took a few minutes to recover from his shock, so he followed Tifa without complaint as she lead him through the slums. It’s not like her following them back was out of the question, he just hadn’t expected it. He’d been very clear about no one following him, though with Vincent’s appearance… well, was the rest of the world going to come back through the portal?

She lead him through the gate to Sector Seven, and through paths that he was finding very familiar indeed. So when they arrived in front of an old shack bearing the sign ‘Seventh Heaven’, he wasn’t particularly surprised.

“You had it rebuilt?” he asked.

“The building was already a clubhouse. I bought it off them and set up shop,” Tifa said. She looked up at the sign and grinned. “Nostalgia’s a hard thing to resist, right Cloud?”

He nodded and followed Tifa inside the bar. It wasn’t an exact replica of the old Seventh Heaven, the furniture was brand new and it sported a polished mahogany bar. It looked like Tifa had managed to buy the property next door as well and had knocked the wall out to create a larger seating area. He smiled briefly to himself. Tifa was always proud of her proprietorship and it looked like she was giving her all to the third incarnation of the bar.

“How long have you been back?” Cloud asked as they stood in front of the pinball machine. Tifa hit the button on the side and the hidden elevator took them down to the secret base below the floor.

“About two weeks,” Tifa said. “You?”

“Five months.”

Stepping off the platform, Cloud looked around the room. It seemed that the bar was not the only part of Seventh Heaven to have an upgrade. The large table was still in the centre of the room, an annotated map of Midgar unfurled in the centre. Whiteboards covered the sides of the room, mostly bare but a few held some rough plans. Tables and crates held a few terminals and monitors and at the very back behind some drawn curtains were a row of bunk beds.

Finally, they could discuss things in the open. Cloud turned to Tifa. “Why did you come back?”

Tifa smiled back at him, taking a seat at the table. “About a day after you left, a Shinra trooper came into Seventh Heaven. A short trooper, with spiky blond hair.”

“Oh no,” Cloud groaned, burying his face in his hands. He let out a short chuckle, looking at Tifa through his fingers. “What was he like?”

“Confused… a little bit scared. Barret’s taken him in. I think he gets a kick out of telling you what to do.”

Letting his hands drop back to the table. “I guess it wouldn’t be too bad, having Barret as a dad.”

“And now you’ll have Marlene as a sister.”

“Will Marlene be okay? With you…”

“Barret is Marlene’s family, I’m just an auntie,” Tifa said with a slow shake of her head. “It didn’t take long to realise I should go. We were a family and when you two boys left, we were broken apart. I just hesitated… having to leave everyone behind.”

“At this rate, all of Avalanche will come back.”

Tifa laughed, as carefree as he had heard in a long time. “We had a long talk about if anyone else wanted to go. I was the only one.”

“You came prepared,” Cloud said with a nod to the equipment.

“Enough money to start Avalanche up again and some gadgets that Reeve said would help. What have you been up to, Cloud? You look good in that suit.”

“I killed Hojo,” Cloud said. Tifa nodded knowingly. “Then I took his job.”

It was a good thing that Tifa wasn’t drinking anything. “What-!” she blurted out, coughing over the words. “I heard Hojo died, I assumed it was you but… ok, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“It was kinda a seat of the pants thing.”

Tifa laughed and shook her head. “I was just starting to do some digging on Hojo’s replacement,” she said, moving over to the whiteboards. She scrawled in ‘ _some spiky-headed idiot_ ’ in the blank space under where Hojo’s name was crossed out.

“Hey!”

Tifa ignored him. “Did you find Denzel?”

“He joined SOLDIER.”

“You _let_ him?” There was more than a hint of menace to Tifa’s question.

“He’d joined up by the time I arrived — he’s been back here for a year,” Cloud said, reaching across the table to hold Tifa’s hands. She let him, and he squeezed in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “At least this way, we’re both in Shinra, I can keep an eye on him.”

Tifa sighed, relaxing into the touch. “I suppose. I just don’t want him going down the same path we did. He’s such a sweet boy.”

“He’s an adult now, Tifa,” Cloud said. “He’s been here for a year, he already turned fourteen.”

“No,” Tifa said, shaking her head. Her voice choked a little. “No… I wanted to be there for it.”

“So did I.”

Cloud wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a hug and rubbing her back while she buried her head in his shoulder.

“Hey, Tifa…” Cloud said once they pulled away.

“Yeah?”

“I’m…” Cloud ran his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and gave Tifa a little smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Tifa returned the smile. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Cloud. Now come on, we’ve got a lot of planning to do.”

 

* * *

 

Cloud strolled through the slums towards the church in Sector Five, his step a lot lighter than it had been in years. Uncertainty had been turned into potential and his burden was once again shared on many shoulders.

The church was much the same as he remembered, though it was in better repair than the last time he had visited. He pushed open the heavy doors and walked inside. It was darker than he remembered, most likely from not having Cloud and Zack shaped holes in the roof. Yet it still exuded the same sense of peace, from the beams of light streaming through the dust and the orderly row of pews leading down to the patch of dirt where Aerith was tending to a lonely flower.

“Hello, Aerith,” Cloud said as he approached.

Aerith looked up from the flower and gave Cloud a soft smile, slowly standing to greet him. “Hello, Cloud.”

“Cloud,” Vincent greeted as he appeared from behind a pillar.

“Vincent?” Cloud all but yelled, spinning around to face him.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Aerith said, stopping in front of Cloud and crossing her hands in front of her. She leaned in, peering at him with the same smile. “You look… much more solid.”

“Thanks, I… uh…” Cloud shuffled his feet and scratched the back of his head. “What’s going on?”

“Vincent has been staying with me,” Aerith explained. “He explained a lot of things.”

Cloud sent a questioning look to his longtime companion. “You didn’t call?”

“I got lost in the moment,” Vincent replied. He even had the audacity to look sheepish — as much as Vincent could, anyway. “I haven’t been here too long.”

“I’m sorry,” Aerith said, taking his hands in her own. “You’ve been through so much.”

Cloud sent Vincent another questioning look. “She has a right to know,” was the only response.

“You shouldn’t be the one apologising,” he said, letting her hands go. He sighed. “But… you’re probably gonna be involved one way or the other.”

“Will you tell Zack?” she asked.

“Eventually, yeah. But he’s still so young — I dunno if I should be pushing that on him right now.”

“He’s only a year younger than me,” Aerith said. “And from what Vincent told me, he was pretty important to both of us.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Sorry for screwing that up for you.”

Aerith laughed and gave Cloud a playful shove. “You can’t help that you’re pretty, Cloud.”

The urge to roll his eyes proved too overwhelming to resist. “Still… I could tell how much he loved you, even after…”

“What happened in your future doesn’t mean it has to happen in ours,” Aerith said, giving Cloud a little pat on the shoulder. “Isn’t that the point?”

Cloud nodded. “You should both talk to Tifa. She’s back in our old hideout in Sector Seven. I don’t think you saw it, Vincent, but it’s not hard to find.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Tifa?”

“She’s back now, too.”

“Just how many of you are planning on coming back?” Aerith said, giving Cloud a nudge and a grin.

“I am hoping no more,” Vincent said. “We should meet with Tifa.”

Aerith was very… lively on their walk to Seventh Heaven. It was refreshing when he compared it to how he was treating Zack, keeping his friend at a distance in order to maintain his secrecy. He could be free, open and honest in a way he couldn’t even manage with Denzel, for fear of the ears of Shinra listening in.

When they reached the doors of Seventh Heaven, it felt like coming home again.


	33. Seventh Heaven

**December 12 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.”

Cloud groaned, his weary eyes blinking open to the dim light. He raised his head slowly, eyes slowly flicking around the room in the muted bewilderment of the newly awakened, trying to separate dream from reality. He was back in his bedroom in Seventh Heaven, all those months in the past and years in the future, like none of it had ever happened. A quick glance at the window proved that no, he hadn’t suddenly returned. The light was dimmer, barely any brighter than it had been when he’d gone to bed. He was in the old Seventh Heaven, buried in the slums where sunlight didn’t reach.

He felt his bed shift and Tifa was there, lips curled up in amusement. She leaned in and brushed aside the drooping blond locks covering his face.

“You still look so tired. Not sleeping well?”

“Yeah, it… just doesn’t feel safe, sleeping at Shinra.”

“Don’t wear yourself out, ok?”

Cloud nodded as he shuffled backwards to sit up in the bed. He yawned, stretching his arms out with catlike languor.

Tifa giggled. “Well, _good_ morning,” she said, drawing out the words with amused pleasure. Cloud blushed, realising his undressed state, and pulled the sheets up to his chin.

“I didn’t mind,” Tifa said, the grin not wavering from her face.

Cloud closed his eyes, his head drooping. “I… sorry, Tifa.” _Sorry that I couldn’t be what you needed._

“No, I’m sorry,” Tifa said. She looked almost panicked as she gathered his hands up in her own. “I shouldn’t do that, I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

“But…”

“No. Don’t apologise, not for this. I know you like to beat yourself up over everything, but… I’m happy. I always wanted a family and now I have you and Denzel. Maybe it’s not as traditional as my old’s would’ve liked, but I wouldn’t give it away for anything.”

Cloud looked up and gave her a shy smile. She looked so earnest, even with the hint of tears in her eyes. “I love you, Teef.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you too, you grumpy little chocobo butt.”

Breakfast brought back memories of the years he had spent living in Edge, sitting in a small corner of the bar with Tifa and Denzel while they ate the leftovers from the night before. Cloud never really got the hang of cooking past the simple mountain food that his mother had taught him and while Tifa had more experience, having to cover in the kitchen whenever they were short staffed, she was never a natural at it either. So they would heat up the food left over from the night before and share it for breakfast, their table often joined by Marlene and Barret, or any of their large circle of friends when they could make it.

As so often happened in his life, that peaceful time didn’t last. Barret settled back in Corel with Marlene to oversee the oil fields there and Cloud’s patients were taking him further and further away from home. He hadn’t been the only doctor in Edge, after all, but he was the one capable of reaching the remote areas of the Eastern Continent fast enough to make a difference. At least it was familiar, a life of cheap hard beds and cheap inn food.

Tifa smiled at him from over the table. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Just… y’know, how things were.”

She nodded. “Do you regret it?”

“Hm?”

“Coming back, I mean,” she said.

He shook his head. “No, it’s not… it’s just, things are so complicated now.” His mind’s eye conjured an image of the whiteboards in the secret room below them, covered with lines and plots, people to assassinate and politics to manipulate. “I miss the simple life, I guess.”

“Just a mountain boy, right?” Tifa said with a teasing grin.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Cloud said sardonically. “Simple as they come.”

“Mhmm. So, what’s next?”

“I don’t want to go back to Shinra,” Cloud said with a weighted sigh. “Three months there and what have I managed to do? Nothing.”

“You kept Denzel safe,” she reminded him. “That’s not nothing. Sounds like you got rid of most of Hojo’s influence too.”

“It doesn’t fit me,” he said. “It feels like I’m an imposter. Just… fumbling along in the dark where I don’t belong.”

Tifa reached over the table and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “Hey, isn’t that what Avalanche is all about?”

He gave a small snort of a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Then we’re set! But hey, talk to Vincent about it before you decide?”

Cloud nodded. “Sure,” he said, standing from the table. “Is he back at the church?”

“Dunno. He took Aerith home last night, so probably.”

“I’ll go see if I can find him then.”

“Hey,” Tifa said, catching his arm before he could get to the door. “You should put your contacts back in before you go out.”

Cloud thought on it for a moment. Another mask, another falsehood he could do away with. “No,” he said, looking back at her with a smile. “I don’t think I’ll bother.”

 

* * *

 

Sephiroth groaned inwardly. Of course the Turk was no help. “Sector Seven train station, that’s where I saw him last,” he’d said, and Sephiroth had been relieved enough to just have a lead to go on that he hadn’t questioned the redheaded idiot any further.

Now that he was here, and with Sector Seven being at least the size of _Kalm_ , it was hardly anything to go on at all. Given that it was a day ago, their newest director could be anywhere by now.

The Turks were in full alert at least, though their main concern seemed to be that someone had kidnapped Cloud. The thought hadn’t even crossed Sephiroth’s mind. He’d _seen_ the little executive fight, though he had still yet to fulfil his wish of testing that ability for himself. Avalanche would have more luck kidnapping Palmer from the heart of Shinra Tower itself than taking Cloud from the darkest reaches of the slums. No, it was more likely that whatever the reason for his disappearance, it was willing.

“Excuse me,” he said, tugging on the arm of the nearest passerby. He held out Cloud’s employee photo. “I am looking for this man. Have you seen him?”

Blood drained from the face. High pulse. Profuse sweating. Sephiroth put that to the back of his mind as the woman looked over the photo and quickly shook her head. Merely the natural reaction to seeing a monster. “Thank you,” he said, releasing her arm.

Simply questioning the locals didn’t get him far and soon enough he was being avoided by everyone at the station, many going far enough to turn around and walk the other way as soon as they saw him coming.

It was fine. His questioning wasn’t getting him anywhere, anyway.

The road to Wall Market was the most obvious choice, but Wall Market itself was in Sector Six. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, instinct or intuition, that was telling him to stay in Sector Seven. Cloud was near, he could… feel it, somehow. He settled on the small market that had been recently built in the area. It followed the same pattern as many of the others in the slums, close enough to the train station to benefit from the access to passengers, yet far enough away to not catch the attention of any of the guards posted to said stations.

It felt like a scene out of an old Eastern movie he’d watched with Genesis. The dirt crunched underneath his boots and a hush broke out as the locals noticed his presence. Some of the locals ducked inside, most others just stood where they were and stared. A slight breeze caught his coat, making it flutter gently behind him. He walked past a few of the stores, most of them just ramshackle open air stalls built from crates and other detritus that washed down from the building of the plate. He showed the proprietors the photo, but again only received fear-filled shakes of the head.

His eyes flicked over a few of the signs. “A little slice of heaven in Sector Seven.” Well, a bar was as good a place as any to pick up information.

Another scene from the movies. He pushed open the saloon doors and they creaked as they swung behind him. In the dust-filled light he could see only a single woman, who looked up as his boots clicked too loud on the floorboards. She stiffened once she caught sight of him, looking at him with wary eyes. As they all did.

“Can I help you?” she asked. Sephiroth brushed aside the nervous cadence of her voice.

“Have you seen this man?” he asked, handing out the photo.

“No… no, I haven’t,” she replied, barely giving it a glance at all.

“Hm, well… thank you, anyway,” he said. He studied her features closely as he put the photo away. Nervous because she was lying, or merely because of his presence was hard to tell. Much as he would have liked, he never had the Turk skill of judging a response like that. Though perhaps it was the touch of — defiance, perhaps? — in her posture that was throwing him off. Not unusual in the slums, of course, though it wasn’t directed at him very often.

“Was there something else you needed?”

“No,” Sephiroth said, turning to go. “Thank you for your time.”

“This man…” she said, before he had managed more than a few steps. “Is he in trouble?”

Sephiroth turned, intrigued. Did that mean she was covering for Cloud? What was her connection? He put on the best neutral mask he could. “No, he has been missing from work. We are concerned for his safety.”

“Well, ok… if I see him come through, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, miss.”

He gave a short nod of his head, turned, and left the bar. Perhaps he didn’t have a lead on Cloud’s whereabouts, but a connection down in the slums? That was more interesting by far.


	34. Back in the Spotlight

**December 12 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Tifa, what’s wrong?”

It hit him the moment he stepped foot into the bar. Something about the way she was sitting — in front of the bar, not behind — her reaction to the sound of him entering. Something had spooked her, badly.

“He came looking for you, Cloud,” she said, turning to face him. Her shoulders were trembling.

“Who?” Cloud asked, gathering her up in a tight hug. He didn’t really need to ask, but-

“ _Sephiroth._ ”

He nodded and let her go, though still keeping his hands on her arms. “What did he say?”

“That- that you were missing, and he was looking for you,” she said. He could feel the tremors coming down her biceps. For someone as strong and unshakeable as Tifa, it was unsettling. “Cloud, you need to go back.”

“I don’t wanna go back,” Cloud said hurriedly, wincing a little once the words had cleared his lips. It sounded so petulant and childish, even to him.

“Cloud, with the Turks looking for me and with Sephiroth…”

“The Turks are looking for whom?”

“Vincent,” Cloud greeted, not bothering to turn around. There really was no mistaking that voice.

“Cloud said the Turks have been looking for me, well… younger me,” Tifa said, pulling away from Cloud and moving behind the bar area. “And Sephiroth came by today looking for him.”

“Were you not planning to return to Shinra?”

Cloud finally turned to look at his friend, only then noticing Aerith standing behind him looking a touch uncertain. He gave her a friendly smile, which was returned in kind. “I… hoped not,” he said.

“It would make the most tactical sense,” Vincent said in his usual implacable way. “You have a powerful position in Shinra, it would be foolish to give up that advantage so easily.”

“Lot of good it’s done so far,” Cloud muttered, shaking his head.

“Then let us help,” Vincent said. Tifa nodded along from behind the bar. “What do you know about the Turks tailing Tifa?”

Cloud dragged one of the stools out from under the bar and plopped down on it. “I was talking to Reno on the train down here. He found out about the future thing.”

“He will complicate things,” Vincent said, crossing his arms.

Cloud stared back at his friend. “He offered to help,” he said with a shrug.

“Can you trust that?”

Tifa chuckled. “He still has a soft spot for you,” she said. “He wanted to follow you, you know, but he couldn’t leave Rufus and the Turks behind.”

“It is his mixed loyalties that are exactly the problem,” Vincent said.

“I wouldn’t have told him if I could help it,” Cloud replied, his tone a touch petulant even to his own ears.

“Then we will have to assume that you being from the future will not be a reliable secret,” Vincent said.

Cloud leaned back in his seat and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “It’ll be easier, I guess, if I don’t have to worry about it.”

“It sounded like you were enjoying it though,” Tifa said with a giggle. “Did you get to play any pranks?”

“Pranks? No, I, uh…” Cloud scratched the light fuzz at the back of his neck. “I pulled rank on my old drill sergeant. That’s about it.”

Tifa placed a hand on Cloud’s shoulder. “Please tell me you messed with Sephiroth.”

“I told him his dad was Hojo, does that count?”

Tifa giggled again. “No, that’s too cruel,” she said, shaking her head.

Vincent sighed. “Do we not have more important things to worry about?”

“Yes, we do,” Aerith said, nodding solemnly. “We need to plan pranks before Cloud is found out.”

 

* * *

 

Cloud sat still in his seat as the train rumbled around him, the contacts irritating his eyes and his dirty suit pulling too tight over his shoulders. He stared out the window as the sights of Midgar rolled by, the warm glow of sunset filtering through the unfinished sections of the plate as they rose higher. The slums below looked like the night sky in the height of summer, a field of tiny specks struggling to be seen in the hazy darkness.

They passed through the plate and the carriage was bathed in light, white and harsh. The three giant mako turbines stood guard over the city above, washing out the horizon in its oppressive glow. The Shinra Building grew taller as the train wound its way towards the centre of the city, a mass of steel and glass birthed from the winding pipes of the reactor at its heart.

There was a peace around the ruins of Midgar, even in its decay. Wildlife stayed away from the still tainted ground and with no animals or humans to sustain them, the monsters had disappeared soon after. There was no omnipresent hum from the reactors, no faint sense of wrongness from drained and twisted lifestream powering the city. The dark clouds that filled the skies of the city, even now in its incomplete state, had scattered to make way for clear blue skies. It was a memorial, with all the serenity and history of a graveyard.

Cloud took his eyes from the windows. There was none of that peace now. Midgar was like a corpse come back to life, complete with sickly green glow and ominous fog surrounding it all.

The train screeched to a halt, steel grinding on the rails as they pulled in to the station. He stood from his seat and pulled the doors open as the carriage came to a stop, his impeccable balance saving him from the stumbles of a few other eager passengers. Steam hissed from the train’s baffles as he walked away from the station, filling the air with a warm mist.

“Act like you have done nothing wrong,” Vincent had instructed him for his return back. “It has only been a day, after all.”

Which made perfect sense of course, but acting was not Cloud’s forte.

_“Oh… Alfred! Uh, in truth… I too…”_

_“Wh- what is this?”_

_“Uh- love has triumphed! Let’s all, uh, return… and celebrate!”_

_“Cloud! You’re ruining the play!”_

_“Gaaaaaaahhh! You dare ignore me?”_

_“Why don’t you shut up, blabbermouth?”_

Cloud shuddered in the evening chill. Really not his thing.

A pair of Turks were waiting for him as he walked into the lobby, a short brunette girl that looked a little too young and a taller redhead man that looked so much like Reno he’d be sure they were related if he didn’t already know Reno was an only child.

“You’ll need to come with us, sir,” the redhead said, standing to one side while the girl flanked his other. “We need to have a discussion.”

Cloud couldn’t help the amused snort that worked its way out. The overly dramatic attempt at intimidation was just too funny, like a pair of Don Corneo’s thugs trying to puff up and make themselves feel bigger than they actually were. At least they were professional enough to not react to his amusement, though the girl did stiffen in her stride.

“Professor,” Tseng greeted when they arrived at the Turk offices. He was seated in a small nook to one side of the floor, a couch and some comfortable looking chairs surrounding a small wooden table. “You’ve caused a bit of a stir.”

Cloud shrugged. “I don’t see why,” he said.

“You disappeared without any notice. We were concerned.”

Cloud slid himself into the couch without waiting for an invitation, drawing a few raised eyebrows from the surrounding Turks. Tseng didn’t seem to react at all, just a slightly tighter grip on his pen, but Cloud knew how to read the Turk by now. For even that to show, Tseng must have been frustrated beyond belief. He couldn’t help the smirk that twitched in the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t realise I was grounded,” he said once he had made himself comfortable. “Am I not allowed to leave?”

Tseng had a somewhat pinched expression as he replied. “You are allowed to come and go as you please, yes,” he said, as Cloud tried to dampen his expression as best he could. It didn’t have the effect he wanted, Tseng just narrowing his eyes at him. “But as an executive, you require a Turk escort.”

Cloud shrugged. “And if I don’t want one?”

“The President requires it, regardless of your feelings on the matter.”

“Right.”

“Sephiroth has been out looking for you,” Tseng said, leaning in a bit closer. “You’re lucky he was not present when you returned. I believe he would like to have some words with you.”

“So where is he?”

“He had business to attend to.”

 

* * *

 

Sephiroth stood silent as another coffin rolled out of the cargo plane, a pale square of cheap wood with the ShinRa logo proudly emblazoned on the lid. The crew hauled it off with silence and precision, rolling it into place next to all the others. Fifty in total they were bringing back this week. It was double the entire count of last month.

“General.”

“Sephiroth.”

Sephiroth didn’t turn his head. He didn’t need to, Heidegger’s gut was already in his peripheral vision, even when the man was standing behind him. “Was there something you needed?” he asked.

“I came to see why SOLDIER was charging the army budget for unnecessary transports, but I believe I have my answer.”

“Perhaps it was an oversight,” Sephiroth said generously. He knew it was not. “But I am willing to continue to arrange it on the army’s behalf.”

“You will do no such thing,” Heidegger snapped. “This is a waste of resources. They can be buried in Wutai.”

 _In the corner of some foreign field, our brother sleeps tonight._ He could still recall Genesis’ lilting tone as he recited the words. Whether it was from some poem or song, or simply words Genesis _performed_ to make them sound more dramatic, Sephiroth didn’t know. It didn’t matter to him, but it did matter to Genesis, and in a way, that _did_ make it matter to him. It was his way of keeping the candle burning, down to the end of the wick as it was, keeping hold of the hope that his friend would return to take this duty back from him.

“They gave their lives for this company. Do they not deserve to be buried at home?”

Heidegger scoffed. “They are dead, what does it matter to them where they are buried?”

“It matters to those who knew them,” Sephiroth said, though he knew it carried no conviction. None of the fire and passion that Genesis would bring to bear in defence of their dead.

“Then they can pay for it,” Heidegger said. “We can’t afford any more of these frivolities. Wutai is already running over budget, at this rate the reactor won’t break even for a decade.”

“That means little to me, General.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Heidegger said, waving his hand dismissively. “Above your pay grade. It doesn’t matter, just make sure this is the last trip.”

Sephiroth hummed thoughtfully. “I know you tried to stop Genesis bringing them home. What makes you think you can stop me?”

Heidegger snorted. “Because unlike that whelp, you know how to follow orders. Your loyalty isn’t in question.”

“Loyalty is a word that has rather lost its meaning to me, General.”

Heidegger grumbled, seeming to strain himself to come up with a reply. But nothing was forthcoming and he turned on his heel and shuffled out of the room. Sephiroth didn’t turn his head to watch him go. He stared on as the last coffin was hauled into place.

_Brave little soldiers, all in a row._

_Brave little soldiers, come marching home._


	35. Memories

**December 14 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Cloud was interrupted from his thoughts by a sharp knocking at his office door. He frowned at the sheets of paper he held before shuffling them off to the side of the desk.

“Come in,” he said, eyeing the door. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he tensed, his connection already telling him who was on the other side.

“Sephiroth,” Cloud greeted once the SOLDIER was standing in the doorway. He risked a glance at the papers he had just shuffled to the side. On a hunch, he had been researching Sephiroth’s lineage and now the incriminating papers were just a stray look away from the man himself. He tried not to let his eyes linger too long on the pile. Better to not draw attention to them. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

Cloud leaned back in his chair, a casual act that did nothing to hide how tense he was.

“You are very difficult to get a hold of,” Sephiroth said, sitting down in the visitors chair.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“You’ve been trying to pick a fight with me for months.”

“I have been _asking_ to _spar_ with you.”

Cloud shrugged.

Sephiroth sighed. “As I’m sure you’re aware,” he said, leaning a touch closer. “I have been stationed in Wutai for the last month.”

“I thought you’d be away for longer, really.”

“The war has… not been going according to Shinra’s wishes.”

That was an understatement. It was hard for Cloud to believe, but the lack of leadership in the area after Genesis’ early defection had allowed Wutai to gain the upper hand. The President had waited too long before sending Sephiroth, wanting to keep him close by after Cloud had proven that an assassination attempt on the highest levels of Shinra Tower was possible. By the time Sephiroth had arrived, he was fighting a losing battle.

Wutai had excellent guerrilla fighters and the constant pressure on the supply had crippled Shinra’s ability to reinforce their infantry and maintain an effective military presence. Sephiroth’s presence in the ranks would have turned the tide dramatically, but if he were back so soon after his initial deployment, it could not bode well for Shinra. Such an outcome was surprising and for Cloud, very heartening. With Wutai showing they could resist the almighty force of Shinra, it would not take much for others to believe the great empire could be toppled.

“I have been withdrawn to pursue a… diplomatic solution to the conflict.”

Cloud tried to scan his face for any hint of disgust at being pulled back in defeat, but he could find nothing but indifference. Either he was excellent at hiding his emotions — which Cloud didn’t doubt anyway — or he cared little for the outcome of the Wutai war.

“I dunno what I have to do with this,” Cloud said.

“Most of the SOLDIERs stationed in Wutai will be returning at…” Sephiroth paused, his cold glare turning on Cloud. “Could you perhaps tell me why you have my medical records on your desk?”

“You, well,” Cloud said, stumbling over his words. Of course Sephiroth would notice. “At my apartment, I said your mother wasn’t Jenova…”

Sephiroth didn’t wait, snatching the papers off the desk. “I…” he said, the colour draining from his face. “But this is concerning my father… why are there two men here?”

“I was trying to sort that out… Hojo claimed to be your father, but I didn’t believe it.”

“Then this… Vincent Valentine?”

“I don’t know that,” Cloud said. No, he’d just hoped it… if Vincent was Sephiroth’s father, it would have made things a lot easier. “I was going to check.”

Sephiroth slumped back into the chair, the papers falling from his hand. “I thought that… I was told my mother was Jenova, but nothing about my father. I thought that… it did not matter. That my father abandoned me, but…”

“Your mother was not called Jenova,” Cloud said, trying to find a less awkward way to tell him than half-standing awkwardly behind his desk. He decided on pulling his chair around the desk and sitting down next to Sephiroth. “She was a woman named Lucrecia. She was Hojo’s wife, but Vincent was… involved with her.”

“Who was this Vincent?”

“He was a Turk working as a bodyguard for Hojo. They fought over Lucrecia and when she had you, Hojo wanted to use you for his Project S- SOLDIER. Vincent tried to stop him, and Hojo shot him.”

Sephiroth stood from his seat, towering over Cloud. “Why were you looking into this?”

“I thought… if it were true, Vincent should know.”

“What about me, then?”

“I would’ve told you.”

The look on Sephiroth’s face spoke enough about his disbelief. He turned away, his hair fluttering around him and hiding his face. “I… do not wish anyone else to know of this. At least, until… I need time to think.”

“Sephiroth,” Cloud said, his heart beating a touch too fast. He couldn’t let Sephiroth leave to brood over his parentage, that was… well, he’d gone down that road before and it wasn’t worth repeating. “That… spar you wanted? I think… I think I’d agree to that now.”

Sephiroth stopped at the door before giving a slow nod. With no better option and the intense desire to make sure he was keeping Sephiroth in his sight for the time being, Cloud followed behind the other man. He did not speak, lost in his own mind as they made their way to the training rooms. From the moment they stepped out of the elevator, heads turned their way as they passed. Some SOLDIERs kept their distance and tried to hold their stares, but all paid attention.

Sephiroth chose one of the first training rooms they passed and with a brief check shut the door on the outside world. His attention focused, Cloud circled Sephiroth, the Fusion Swords materialising in his hand with wisps of green magic. Sephiroth eyed the transformation as if he could learn the technique by glaring at it alone.

“Enemy Skill,” Cloud said, pointing to the glowing yellow materia on his bracer.

Sephiroth nodded his understanding. He drew Masamune from the sheath on his back and fell into his battle stance.

“Would you prefer a simulation,” he asked?

“No.”

That was all the dialogue they needed before battle. Cloud pulled his sword up in a defensive position only to notice that Sephiroth was doing the same — he had been expecting a flurry of precision strikes, but it seemed this Sephiroth was not as confident as the counterparts he had fought. For once, Cloud started on the offensive, rushing forward with powerful two-handed swings that left Sephiroth on the back foot, each successful block shaking his taut arms.

Sephiroth didn’t strain under the heavy hits for long; he instead went on the attack with rapid stabbing motions, trying to pick apart the weak defence of such a large sword.

But even that did not work, once the sword that had so captured Sephiroth’s attention split in half, one hand used to swat aside his weak thrusts while the other pried at his defences.

Cloud was amused and unsettled. He’d given up at least four opportunities to get around Sephiroth’s defence just because he wasn’t used to there being _any_ holes in his form — or at least because Sephiroth was too fast or too strong to let him exploit them.

For the first four times he’d been too shocked to take advantage, but when he saw that Sephiroth left his right side open — always his right side, he wasn’t yet able to use his reach to completely block that gap — Cloud swung his main sword down, slamming the blunt edge one handed into Sephiroth’s shoulder. One strike and Sephiroth went down to the floor, hard.

Cloud took a few steps back, lowering his blade as Sephiroth struggled back to his feet.

“Less than a minute,” Sephiroth said as he picked Masamune off the floor. Even recovering from a fall, he still looked the picture of poise and grace. “Not even Angeal and Genesis could beat me and you do it in less than a minute.”

“Just wait,” Cloud said. He’d avoided the spars with Sephiroth for exactly this reason: he was very familiar with Sephiroth’s style, but that did not work the other way around. He was giving up a major advantage by letting the man get used to fighting him. “One result doesn’t mean anything.”

Sephiroth smirked, bringing his sword back into position over his shoulder. “What, you want this to be a randomised controlled trial?”

“Cute.”

Sephiroth rushed forward on the offensive, picking away at Cloud’s defences once again. This time he kept his sword in one piece, partly to confuse Sephiroth but also to at least keep him from getting used to some of his styles. He used the two handed broadsword style most often, but against someone like Sephiroth he needed the speed of the multiple blades. Perhaps this could be more use to him, though — by practicing with the two-handed style he would not have to fall on his backup so readily.

Keeping up his defence with the heavy blade was tiring, especially since Sephiroth could put a surprising amount of force into his strikes. Two strikes more and he batted away the thin blade with the side of his weapon and dived into the offensive, swinging towards Sephiroth in circular strokes that Sephiroth was forced to dodge away from, or risk numbing his whole arm trying to block.

His other secret weapon was that he was not as slow or clumsy as Sephiroth thought him to be with the massive weapon. Changing his direction mid swing, he clipped Sephiroth on the side of the leg as he dodged out of the way, sending him tumbling down to the floor once again.

“I didn’t even see that,” Sephiroth huffed as he struggled to his feet once again.

Cloud just shrugged. He wasn’t too pleased with his results. He could see Sephiroth learning with each swing and each hit he scored against him was one more weakness that he was helping his one-time nemesis get rid of. He may be trying to stop thinking of Sephiroth as an enemy, but he would never, ever stop thinking of him as dangerous.

The next round was rapidly becoming more even and Cloud stuck to his two-handed style — much to the annoyance of Sephiroth, who had such a fascination with his weapon that he desperately wanted to test himself against it. The round ended when Sephiroth managed not to get a sword strike in, but as Cloud dodged from a wide swing he gave him solid punch to the sternum that sent the smaller blond flying back down to the mat.

“See?” Cloud said as he struggled to his feet, coughing painfully from the pressure that the hit gave to his ribcage. Sephiroth was far too strong for his own good, just that stray punch had easily knocked him off his feet and sent him flying.

“That was just lucky…”

Cloud rolled his shoulders to get some of the feeling back into them as he retook his battle pose. “Sometimes that’s what counts.”

They continued their brief spurts of fighting until both of them were too exhausted to stand up properly, bathed in sweat and matted hair, barely able to lift their weapons. The fights had become longer and longer as they grew to know each other’s styles, Cloud becoming more and more interested in the way that Sephiroth’s fighting style was different, less arrogant and more confident. He lost more of the fights, but it was thrilling to see that he could match Sephiroth strike for strike when it counted.

Letting his sword disappear back into the ether, Cloud wrapped his arm around Sephiroth’s waist and they hobbled towards the door using each other for support. If they had drawn attention to themselves going into the training room, they might as well have been wearing bells coming out. Sweating, panting and holding on to each other for support, they made their way down the corridor where they were accosted by a certain black-haired SOLDIER.

“Cloud! Uh, hello sir.” Zack gave a quick salute once he had recovered enough from his shock.

“We have just come from the training room, Fair. Would you be able to help the Professor home?” Sephiroth eyed Zack, almost daring him to mention that he was leaning on Cloud more than Cloud was leaning on him.

“I need all the showers in the world,” Cloud said.

“Come on,” Zack said with a grin, splitting the two apart and hooking his arms under each of theirs. “Let’s get you two home, shall we?”

“You’re too tall,” Cloud complained as he tried to keep up with Zack, one side of his body being stretched up too far for comfort.

“Nope, you’re just too short,” Zack said, complete with an agreeable grunt from Sephiroth. “What were you two doing?”

“We were sparring,” said Sephiroth.

“Why, what did you think we were doing?” added Cloud.

“Oh, nothing.” Zack hauled them both into the elevator and let them lean against the walls. “But I got a text from Kunsel. Rumour is you were walking out of the training room after having wild passionate sex.”

Cloud groaned, unwilling to even work up the energy to be indignant. Sephiroth seemed to have a similar disposition if his slow slide down the wall was anything to go by. He couldn’t even remember how he got inside his apartment, but he did remember Sephiroth insisting that he didn’t need any help getting inside before promptly falling down on the floor. Once they had recovered enough energy, Sephiroth took a quick shower followed by Cloud who took a substantially longer one, letting the hot water and steam breathe some new life back into his poor muscles.

Somehow he mustered enough energy to dry himself off and quickly pulled on some sweatpants before walking out into the lounge to join the others, Sephiroth lying down on the couch and offering annoyed monosyllabic answers to Zack’s questions. Apparently they had managed to retrieve some of Sephiroth’s clothes, as he too had traded his leather uniform for some infinitely more comfortable sweat pants and t-shirt.

“How hard did you guys go at it,” Zack asked — probably with a waggling of eyebrows, he didn’t bother to check — as Cloud flopped down on the other couch, letting his limbs fall where they pleased.

“It was…” Cloud stretched his neck up to check the clock on the TV set. “Four hours?”

“So… who won?” That seemed to be the burning question on Zack’s mind.

“Cloud won.”

“Sephiroth won.”

They both groaned and Zack laughed. “That close, huh?”

“I suspect if it came down to a fight, Cloud would have a lot more tricks up his sleeve than I do.”

Cloud said nothing, leaving himself spread out on the couch as they talked around him. He could barely hear what they were saying, but it was soothing nonetheless.

“Feeling better yet?”

Cloud opened his eyes to see Zack standing above him with a tense smile on his face. He nodded, the shower and short break had done its work, and his mako-enhanced body was already well on the way to healing through the muscle he had damaged with the intense spar. More than that, he was feeling better than ever despite the soreness. It had been far too long since he’d had a workout, and even longer still since he had a true challenge of his skills.

As risky as it was, he looked forward to challenging Sephiroth again.

“You look good, Cloud.”

Cloud raised his head from the couch. Sephiroth stood at the kitchen counter, his back turned to him, Masamune loosely held in his left hand.

“I suppose that is to be expected. After all, you have perfect genes.”

The walls of the apartment ignited as Sephiroth turned to face him, the flames framing him as they leapt to the roof. Within seconds, Cloud was smothered with heat and smoke and the smell of death. Pinned to the couch by his unwilling muscles, Cloud stared at Sephiroth, who stood in the middle of a ring of flames, untouched.

“You’re a memory,” Cloud said.

“Was it a memory you fought with?” Sephiroth replied. “I am alive once again, and… oh, I have so much potential.”

“He’s a different man.”

“For now,” Sephiroth said as he walked towards the couch, the fire parting before his feet. “Join with me, Cloud,” he whispered softly, grabbing Cloud’s jaw in his hand and forcing him to look into those green feline eyes. “Show him our future. Show him what he can become and you can join us in everlasting bliss.”

“Cloud… hey, are you ok? Cloud!”

Cloud swung his legs over the side of the couch and stood up, panting heavily. “Did I fall asleep?”

“I dunno if that was sleep,” Zack said, handing him a glass of a water. “Are you ok?”

“I’ll live.”


	36. Sector Five

**December 15 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Sephiroth sat in a circle of discarded papers, open files, and scattered data disks in the middle of the SOLDIER records room. He had locked himself in here as soon as he had left Cloud’s apartment, the curiosity burning slower in him but with no less intensity. He had ripped through file cabinets, computer systems and harried clerical staff in his need to find the truth surrounding his… creation.

So far, he had found nothing. Every remaining document was a tiny piece of the puzzle that fit Cloud’s explanation, but left a lingering and compounding distaste. The worst were details of his childhood.

He could remember little before the age of eight, when he was sent off to study with Katana, a weapons master in the Turks who specialised in the sword of his chosen name. He had spent his pre-adolescent years under the watchful gaze of… his father while Katana had drilled into him the fundamentals of sword work and combat. It had been a fond time for him — while Katana was a strict teacher, he did not believe in the spiritual and pacifist tripe that so often went with hand in hand with martial arts instructors. He taught form, precision and the art of the weapon alone.

When he became an adult at age fourteen he was drafted into SOLDIER, the newly formed department of elite warriors in Shinra’s army, of which he would be the first member. He met the second and third members of the department, Angeal and Genesis, with whom he would form what seemed like a lifelong bond. At first it was respect, for of all the students and instructors at Shinra they were the only two who could challenge him. Soon, as the injections and medical ‘enhancements’ grew in frequency and discomfort, it turned to friendship as they turned to each other for comfort at their most vulnerable times.

Yet Hojo had never told him of anything before his time at Katana’s boot camp. When he asked, he was told that it was nothing remarkable — after all, most people do not remember their earliest years and with Sephiroth losing his mother it must have been so traumatic, don’t worry about it, Shinra took care of you and _you should be grateful to them_.

But the records told a different story.

He had been born in Nibelheim, like Cloud. His mother was listed as Jenova and his father listed as unknown, absent. He spent the first few years as an infant in a mansion Shinra had set up as a research base, at the same time and in the same place that they built their very first mako reactor. The list of tests were standard, but excessive for a cadet, let along an infant. Blood tests, fitness tests, toxin sensitivity, mako absorption rate. Some of them done daily, most of them done as soon as he was a week old.

He was a test subject to Shinra, an experiment from the day he was conceived.

He had been told that Shinra had taken him into the SOLDIER program as their first member because he was exceptionally skilled, he was a prodigy who had gained such amazing power with sword and materia before he was even a teenager. But that was a lie, he was _made_ to be a SOLDIER from his birth. He never _gained_ any power, it was _inflicted_ upon him. His shirt was torn open from when, in a fit of panic, he had checked his limbs for scars, or a line where his arms joined his chest, evidence that he had been _assembled_.

His thoughts turned to Angeal and Genesis, his friends with such similar power. Is that why they left Shinra, had they too found out that they were made to be ‘special’ at the whims of some fucking _scientist_?

Was that why Cloud seemed to bear such a grudge against Shinra, even when working for them? Or worse — Cloud was older than him, was he the failed prototype that had been cast aside to make way for Sephiroth, the next test subject?

His thoughts were interrupted by on the door slowly, timidly sliding back.

He growled, gathering up the scattered papers and throwing them on a nearby desk. He had locked the door for a reason, he did not want to be disturbed and he _meant it_. When Lazard poked his head around the corner of the doorway, he levelled his most malevolent glare at the director.

“Sephiroth,” Lazard said as he walked into the room, his eyes cast down to his wrists where he fastidiously straightened his cuffs with one hand, his other holding a plain manila folder. “A mission has come up.”

Sephiroth stared back at him.

“It’s just a short mission,” Lazard went on, his eyes not moving from the folder. “There has been a disturbance at the Sector Five reactor. A team is being sent, and Second Fair will be leading it. I just want you to provide assistance.”

Lazard handed the folder over and Sephiroth took it, letting it drop to his side without bothering to open it. “Very well, I accept.” _A true Shinra lackey, to the end._

“Fair’s promotion to First Class only needs my signature. I would like you to see for yourself if I should put it there or not.”

“Very well,” he said, brushing past Lazard and leaving the records room. He did not have much time for the hyperactive, annoyingly friendly Zack Fair, but he had heard enough from Angeal about his protege being competent and professional in the field — as much as he was _not_ elsewhere.

Sephiroth certainly hoped so. In less than an hour, he would be finding out for himself.

 

* * *

 

“Gold team, move up to the control room and secure it. Red team, spread out and cover the walkways below. Blue team, you’re up top with me.”

He was impressed. While Fair’s easygoing style had worn on him for the first stage of the assault, his rapport with the troopers and firm communication had made for a coordinated attack with the general infantry that he would find difficult to pull off. While Sephiroth knew that he commanded respect amongst all the ranks of Shinra, he was well aware that he was just as feared and not terribly well liked. He was coming to realise was that Fair’s style of leadership was not worse, just different and he would grudgingly admit, perhaps even more effective than his.

“I will follow Gold Team,” he said to Fair before following the squad leader down the narrow steel walkway. They were not far into the reactor and while Fair was being careful, they were still making excellent time — it helped that they had not yet run into any resistance.

“Yes sir,” both Fair and the gold leader answered.

He was more interested in the control room itself than the performance of the various teams. The report had described an anomaly that was technical in detail, various power fluctuations and equipment malfunctions that would be best suited to an engineering team than a military force. Yet the entire reactor had been evacuated, leaving one of the most complicated and expensive buildings in Midgar to be operated by remote while teams of soldiers blundered around its interior. There had to be something else going on for the President — and it had to have been the President — to order this operation.

“Control room secure.”

He nodded at the trooper, pushing past the door and making a beeline for the security console on the far wall. Each of the monitors were showing various feeds from the security cameras, and a quick flick through them found exactly what he was looking for. Too many cameras were showing static to be a coincidence.

He tapped his earpiece. “Expect trouble, Fair.”

_Yes, sir. Any specifics?_

“The reactor has been infiltrated. No specifics yet.”

Why wasn’t this detail put into the report? He pulled up the security controls and started playing back through the tapes. The security personnel would have surely reported cameras going out immediately, so the evacuation would make sense if the reactor was under attack. Most of the cameras were taken out before they could spot the culprit, but there was one… just less than two hours ago, where one camera covered another.

Even on the black and white screen he could see the red clad figure walk into shot and with a wide swing slice a camera from the wall. The figure turned to the camera, lifting his arm and shooting a blast of flame into the lens. The screen turned to static.

“Genesis,” he whispered to himself.

He stood from the seat and made his way to the door, finger held against his earpiece. “All teams, fall back. Fair, I am taking command.”

 _Everyone, fall back,_ Fair repeated. _Sir, what’s happening?_

“Genesis,” Sephiroth replied. “Second Fair, make sure the teams get out.”

_Sir, you need backup-_

“Take the teams to the entrance, Fair. Now.”

Grabbing the sides of a ladder, he hauled himself up to the next level three rungs at a time. He would be able to travel faster without the soldiers slowing him down, but more than that, he wanted both them and Fair out of the way. He was not planning to fight Genesis, or to bring him in to Shinra. No, he needed to have a long talk with his old friend.

 

* * *

 

Sephiroth clipped his sword to his back, raising his hands. Angeal was cornered, his Shinra-issue broadsword raised defensively as he backed up against the wall. “I did not come here to fight, Angeal,” he said, taking a cautious step closer. “I only wanted to talk.”

Angeal let the tip of his sword drop to the floor, but he did not lower it entirely. “Talking may be more dangerous than fighting,” he warned.

“Perhaps, but do you not think it is time?”

Angeal glanced around the bare room. The dust was disturbed, long marks in the floor from the hasty removal of heavy equipment. _Just what have you been doing, Angeal?_

“Sephiroth, if you knew what I knew…”

“I think I do. I found out about… my birth, at least.”

The admission was enough to take Angeal by surprise, his grip on his sword slipping enough to let the blade clatter to the ground. He took in a deep breath, “Then you know about Jenova?”

“I was told she was my mother, that she died in childbirth… but she was not my mother. More than that, I don’t know.”

Sephiroth’s superior hearing could pick up the frenzied beat of Angeal’s heartbeat easing slightly. So Jenova was important. He had placed her out of his mind when he found out that she was not his mother. Was she still related to him in some way?

“Then you should keep it that way. I wish I had never known.”

“Is that who you are looking for, Angeal?”

“No, it’s more than that. I can’t explain to you why, but this can’t involve you.”

Sephiroth practically growled at his old friend. “I am already involved.”

“Please, keep out of this… and keep Zack out of it, too.”

“What about Genesis?”

“What about him?” Angeal reached down to pick his blade off the floor, holding it up to rest on as a support while he talked with Sephiroth.

“I know that he is here, Angeal. Neither of you have to hide from me.”

Angeal flipped his blade back into a ready position, backing away from Sephiroth while he scanned the room. “Genesis is here?”

“What is going on?” Sephiroth stepped forward, only for Angeal to duck out of the way.

“Angeal’s been hiding something,” came the familiar voice from the rafters, and in true theatrical Genesis style, he dropped from the roof above with his coat sweeping behind him, landing deftly in the room with a flourish. “Hiding something from both of us,” he continued, crimson sword pointed straight towards Angeal.

“I did what I had to,” Angeal yelled as he charged Genesis, bringing his massive blade into a swinging arc that forced the other man to dodge to the side.

“Stop!” Sephiroth yelled at the other two, grabbing his own sword from his back and stepping into the fray.

Yet the two continued to battle, Angeal closing the gap with determined strides until he was in reach with his broadsword. Genesis danced away, using his sword and coat to keep Angeal at arms length while he responded with his formidable magic skills, throwing out three fireballs at a time.

Sephiroth slashed through one ball of flame, breaking the magic bonds in half before it could explode. He needed to reach Genesis, but he still had no idea what to do when he got there. If he could just get them to stop fighting, he thought, they would be able to sort the whole mess out — either they would come back to Shinra, or he would leave with them. But they would do it together. He was so close to finding the answer — if only they would lay down their weapons and talk it out.

Narrowing his eyes and letting out a short growl, he stepped through the flames of another of Genesis’ spells, swinging the Masamune down low to keep the tongues of flame under control. Genesis never had any thought for the locations he fought in — he ducked to avoid the flying debris as a fireball blew a hole through the wall — and would burn them to the ground just to win the fight. Sometimes a bit more restraint would be welcomed, especially in a damned reactor.

Another fireball, and this time he was too late in catching it, the magic slamming into a supporting pillar and breaking it in two. He was still exhausted from the fight with Cloud, and it was slowing him down. While he had never had a need to question his own abilities before, he was not sure he could hold off Genesis alone like this, let alone both of them. Worse, Genesis’ fireballs were starting to take their toll on the building and he was barely able to see the other two through the thick black smoke that was suffocating the room.

Pushing through the smoke he found where Angeal had chased Genesis outside the room and was now pressing the other SOLDIER on the numerous catwalks the reactor possessed. With each swing of his sword Angeal would sever another of the platforms and the two would leap over to the next, only to begin the process again.

With a blind leap, Sephiroth grabbed the nearest walkway and swung up to meet them, landing on the walkway so Genesis was just in reach of his massively long blade. The two of them had their blades locked together, pushing desperately against each other in a physical show of strength. Genesis could not win a direct physical push with Angeal, but it was the magical tricks up his sleeve that Sephiroth was more worried about.

Joining the lock, he pressed Masamune up against the other two blades, trying to break them apart. “Stop this!” he yelled at them, using his incredible strength to force both combatants to fight against him instead of each other.

“Stay out of this,” Angeal growled, pushing back with his broadsword. Genesis twisted to the side, trying to use the distraction to score a hit on Angeal while he was occupied. Angeal twisted to meet him, pushing further against their locked swords.

Angeal’s blade snapped.

All the force they were pushing into their grapple barrelled out, the shattered half of the blade flying from the end of the sword and embedding itself into Sephiroth’s shoulder. Angeal stumbled forward, narrowly missing getting his head sliced off as Genesis’ sword, suddenly lacking resistance, flew out in a wide arc. With nothing to hold him back, Angeal stumbled into Sephiroth, knocking the wounded and stunned man through the railing and down into the reactor below.

As Sephiroth fell, he could see the world become clearer, more tranquil. He wondered what they were even fighting over, why three friends had been locked in such vitriolic combat. He could hear someone shouting his name, but it didn’t make sense to him. It didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the wind rushing past him, the darkness below that was slowly creeping up to surround him and the peaceful knowledge that nothing mattered anymore. There was nothing he could do to stop this, just lie back and let himself go as peacefully as possible.

All it took… was one mistake.

He relaxed his body, hair fluttering all around him as he accepted his fate.

He hit the ground, and everything went black.


	37. Return to Sector Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this! I stuffed up with re-uploading the edited chapters, so the notification went out for Chapter 16 instead of this Chapter! Sorry!
> 
> As far as the edit goes, there have been quite a few changes, but if you've re-read it recently don't worry too much about it! He's just a small summary of the new stuff to read to help:
> 
> 25 - Interlude 2: Family  
> 29 - Tailed  
> 32 - Anxious Heart  
> 33 - Seventh Heaven  
> 34 - Back in the Spotlight  
> 37 - Return to Sector 5
> 
> For those of you wondering, the Corel chapters have been taken out. They didn't really fit, and I'm a lot happier with how things go now.
> 
> For new updates, I have about 7 chapters ready to go and I'll be posting them out hopefully more regularly. I know I'm terrible with updating, but I'm determined to see this through! If you liked the story, please leave a comment, they mean the world to me!

**December 15 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Get everything packed, Mouse. We leave in five.”

Denzel returned the breathless order with a cocky grin, swinging his staff around to clip to his back. His superior’s head had barely breached the corner to tell him.

“You’ve told me that twice, Zack,” he said.

“Well, are you packed yet?”

The past hour had been tiring beyond belief, that that was only from _watching_. Zack had been bouncing — literally, at times — since they learned the details of their next mission. Not only would it be Zack’s first mission leading a joint team of infantry and SOLDIER, something his mentor had dreamed about since he first put on his Third blues, but they were there to support _Sephiroth_.

And despite the gnawing dread and worried knot that name held for Denzel, he couldn’t help his heart’s flutter at Zack’s elation.

“Are you excited?” Denzel asked, pitching his head slightly and letting his lopsided grin even out.

“What? No,” Zack lied, “I’m just getting ready for the mission.”

“Of course.” Denzel swung his locker door closed and turned his head just enough for Zack to catch his quick wink.

“Hey, it’s not a mission with Cloud,” Zack replied, returning the wink with a more lascivious one of his own. “I’d get excited for that.”

Denzel grunted, shoving past Zack hard enough that the older boy was shaken off balance, forced to wave his arms to keep upright. “Gross,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hey,” Zack replied, leaning in to his leer. “Your dad is _anything_ but gross.”

Denzel shot back an expression hovering somewhere between dismay and disgust. It may have been exaggerated a little — he’d had enough time to get used to Zack’s puppy crush on Cloud, but it was still just… wrong, dammit. At least it taught Denzel one important thing — it is physically impossible to embarrass Zack Fair.

“If you can contain your drooling, we’ve got a mission,” Denzel said grumpily, sweeping out of the room to the sound of Zack’s playful “yes, sir!”

It was all of three seconds before Zack’s freakishly long legs had caught up with him and they were walking down the halls of the SOLDIER floor. Denzel couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it had been with Angeal and Zack, or maybe even Cloud and Zack, a lifetime and a Universe ago. The closeness, the camaraderie, he could see now why Cloud always had that look in his eye when he’d talked about Zack. It wasn’t just the man himself, though that was undoubtedly part of it, but the bond between mentor and student that went well beyond friendship or collegiality.

For all the trouble it had caused, Denzel considered himself incredibly lucky to have stumbled on this jaunt back in time.

The rest of the SOLDIER floor was busier than normal, the last minute mission request having kicked off a flurry of activity as everyone from SOLDIERs to administrative staff hurried to their stations. Their smaller SOLDIER team, two Seconds that Denzel did not immediately recognise and a sole helmeted Third, were gathered in a corner by the elevator, talking amongst themselves.

“We ready to head out, Zack?” one of the Seconds asked.

“Yeah, we’re gonna meet up with the troopers by the reactor. Seph’s gonna meet up with us once we’re deployed.”

“Sephiroth.”

At the sound of the man’s voice, two conflicting reaction flowed through Denzel’s body. One, a gnawing pit of terror filling his belly and threatening to pull his limbs down the floor, the other pure joy threatening to pull the corners of his mouth up to his eyebrows as he witnessed Zack’s horror.

“Sorry sir! Er, Sephiroth!”

“I will be leaving you in charge of the mission, Fair. I expect your teams to be outside the reactor and ready to enter in half an hour.”

“Yes sir!”

At least Zack waited until Sephiroth had turned the corner and was out of sight before whispering to Denzel, “Didn’t really expect to be told what to do right after being told I’m in charge…”

“He can probably still hear you,” Denzel whispered back. Years of living with Cloud had given him first hand experience. You couldn’t get away with _anything_ if Cloud was in the same _city_.

“Probably,” Zack said with a grimace and a nod. He turned to the other SOLDIERs. “Alright, you heard him. Get to the trucks and if you forgot anything you better hope they’ve been restocked.”

 

* * *

 

 _All_ _teams fall back. Fair, I am taking command._

“Everyone, fall back.” Zack waved the two troopers away from the door. Cutting the flame from the plasma cutter he was holding, one of the troopers looked up at Zack in askance. He ignored her. “Sir, what’s happening?”

_Genesis. Second Fair, make sure the teams get out._

“Fuck!” Zack released the button on his communicator just in time. He looked over the gantry to where Red Team was preparing to breach the other entrance to the room. “Sir, you need backup—”

_Take the teams to the entrance, Fair. Now._

“Fall back, everyone,” Zack said, running a hand nervously through his hair. He leaned over the railing, yelling at the Second who was leading Red Team down below. “Troopers are falling back. Make sure they get to the entrance!”

“Zack?” Denzel asked. He had that unerring feeling again, that one that always showed up when Zack was about to do something that he wasn’t technically supposed to.

“I know what he said, Mouse. But he needs backup.”

Denzel couldn’t help the softest scoff. “He’s Sephiroth, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but like… emotionally? Come on, we gotta go.”

If there was one thing that came with Denzel’s sense of Zack disobeying orders, it was the sense of inevitability. Nothing he could say would ever stop his mentor. No appeals to reason or logic, if Zack decided that something needed to be done then not even his death could stop it.  
But that was more Cloud’s story to tell.

Denzel followed close on Zack’s heels as they ran through the reactor, chasing after the last known location of Gold Team, and hopefully then, Sephiroth. Running _towards_ Sephiroth… certainly not his first choice.

The reactors looked like they’d been designed to be as difficult and as deadly as possible to navigate. Thin metal walkways with inadequate railing that shook violently from each thundering footstep. It didn’t help that Shinra decided that every walkway needed to be hanging over a sheer, impossible drop at every opportunity. Praying to anyone who would listen that Zack knew what he was doing, Denzel followed his mentor in a blind leap off the railing, straight into the pitch darkness below.

Barely catching the scaffolding pole in time — it was only from sense of sound that he knew it was there, having heard Zack swing around it seconds earlier — Denzel swung himself on to the exposed platform, barely managing to make it over what he could now see was a dead drop in to the slums a few dozen metres below.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, and it was lucky he was even as enhanced to the level he was. The only light coming in was from the street lights of the slums below and the occasional spark from an utterly destroyed fixture. He could make out three figures standing in the room, closest to him Zack, his broadsword up in a defensive stance as he inched closed to the other figure — Angeal, it must have been, from the silhouette of the massive broadsword pointed towards his mentor.

The third shadow was already up in the scaffolding above the room. In seconds, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Angeal…”

Denzel pulled his staff from his back, holding it straight against his bicep and forearm in a ready position.

“You have a pup of your own, now…” he heard Angeal say. His voice sounded almost wistful, despite the harsh gravelly delivery. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“What happened, Angeal. Why did you leave?”

Denzel inched closer to Zack, making sure to keep behind his mentor and move slowly enough to avoid the other man being startled. He was well aware by now of when it was best to let others take the lead.

“It’s too late for that, Zack. No, there’s no other way.”

“Just _tell me_ , Angeal. I thought you could trust me, but if you can’t do that, just _tell me_.”

“Revenge.”  
“What? Would you start making sense already?”

“I’m a monster. What else does a monster do, except seek revenge… or maybe I should take over the world instead?”

“Where does making lame jokes fit in?”

“You should talk to Cloud…” Denzel cut in, taking a step closer to the pair. “Whatever you think… just talk to Cloud. He’ll know how to help.”

“Huh… him.” That just seemed to make his mood darker, enough to stifle the air even in that grim room. “Just like the others… worse, even.”

“He’s right, Angeal,” Zack said. “I trust him.”

“Then you can’t be trusted,” Angeal sneered. With a clipped puff of white, a single enormous wing appeared from his back. Even in the near pitch black room, it still seemed to shine. With a great heave, Angeal launched himself into the air.

Zack and Denzel chased after him, futilely trying to catch up as he flew out of the room. Even after Denzel had given up, Zack was still climbing the scaffolding, yelling after his former mentor.

“Angeal!”

“ANGEAL!”

* * *

_Are_ _you alright, Sephiroth? Can you hear me?_

That voice, it was so familiar. “Yes,” he whispered.

_Back then, they’d bring in you at the slightest cough._

“Back then? What do you mean?”

_What about now? Can you get up?_

Sephiroth tried stretching out his arms, only now finding out that he could still feel them. The feeling rushed back, along with excruciating pain. It felt like he had broken every bone in his body and when he moved his legs, his body just found some more bones to freshly break.

“Oh! He moved! Whew, am I glad.”

He had expected a male voice, gruff and low or lilting and passionate. Not the sweet, earthy tone of a young woman. He tried to open his eyes, rewarded with only a blinding white light.

“Hello? Hello!”

With a great struggle, he pulled himself up, finding that he was in an old building with tall pillars and stained glass windows in columns along the high walls. The roof was broken, he guessed from where he fell through, the bright afternoon light streaming through the hole he made.

“Are you OK?” the girl said as he turned his head to her. She was a pretty young girl, with long brown hair tied back into a braid and thick bangs similar to own. “You fell through the roof, it really gave me a scare.”

“The roof?” He looked up, back into the bright light above him. “Where am I?”

“This is an old church in the Sector Five slums. You’re very lucky, the roof and flower bed must have broken your fall.”

“Flower bed…?” Pulling himself to his feet, he brushed the dirt of his coat and looked down where he landed, a small patch of dirt showing through the broken floorboards of the church, with a single crushed flower in the middle. “I apologise,” he said as he looked at the flower, already wilting and turning brown.

“That’s alright. They say you can’t grow flowers in Midgar, but I’m sure I can find some more.”

“I… I am sorry. I will replace it.”

“Don’t worry about that, silly. Anyway, I’m Aerith.” Aerith held out her hand and Sephiroth took it and give it a firm shake, which just caused Aerith to giggle some more, much to Sephiroth’s confusion.

“My name is Sephiroth.”

“Everyone knows that, silly.” There was that charming giggle again. “You’re famous.”

“I apologise about the damage, I can pay to have it…”

“It’s not my church…” Aerith turned her back on Sephiroth for a moment, rubbing her hands together before turning back with a smile and an outstretched finger. “But! If you want to help fix things up you can!”

Sephiroth nodded. “I will do that. Thank you, Aerith…”

 


	38. Moonlit Night

**December 16 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Sephiroth stared across at Genesis, letting the bouquet of flowers he was holding awkwardly fall down to his side. “Coincidence indeed,” he said, his eyes narrowing at the smirk playing out on Genesis’ face.

“I didn’t know you had a date,” Genesis said, his duller than normal eyes twinkling back to their full strength for a moment. “I should let you find her… him? I just came to see…”

He gave Genesis a sideways look as the man uncharacteristically ran out of words. “I didn’t realise you cared.”

“ _Of course I cared_ ,” Genesis hissed, his eyes flashing. He took a breath and in a moment, calmed himself. “Couldn’t have you dying so _ignobly_ , not before I had a chance to… to…” he trailed off, his heart clearly not in their usual banter.

“It put things into perspective,” Sephiroth said. He glanced at the flowers. “I was falling… for so long. Waiting to die. I think I had accepted it, before the ground hit.”

“ _Floating down through the clouds, memories come rushing up to meet me now._ ”

“Is it necessary to recite poetry at every turn?” Sephiroth asked with a sigh.

Genesis gave an undignified snort. “It’s a song, Sephiroth,” he said. “You should listen to music sometime, might relax you enough to work that stick out of your arse.”

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on the flowers.

“I only meant to say,” Genesis said placatingly. “That I can relate. Falling from the top of Shinra tower…”

“You have a wing.”

Genesis smirked his way at the interruption. “Fittingly, Cloud Strife has a kick like a damn chocobo,” he said. “I was too stunned. I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it out in time.”

“But you managed to, in time.”

“Luckily for those below, yes. How did you manage to survive?”

Sephiroth gave a short wave with the flowers. “A flower bed broke my fall.”

“Flowers, in the slums? Another impossibility, how interesting.”

It was common knowledge that nothing could grow in Midgar and even imported flowers, like the ones he had bought, would die eventually no matter the care bestowed on him. He hadn’t thought that Aerith’s exception was so, well, exceptional to be an impossibility.

“All the more reason to replace them,” Sephiroth reasoned.

“I should take my leave then,” Genesis said. “It is good to see you safe, my friend.”

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. How civil of him. “Be well, Genesis.”

He got a more usual wry smirk in reply. “What, not going to take me in?”

“Did you want me to?”

“Of course not. I thought you might try, anyway.”

Sephiroth shrugged. “I have not been given a mission to do so.”

“Don’t yank on that chain too hard, Sephiroth,” Genesis said with a dry chuckle. “You may find it more brittle than you like.”

 

* * *

 

“It is… a reparation. For the damage caused.”

Sephiroth refused to look his opponent in the eye. He refused to bow his head and refused to show any signs of weakness. He adamantly refused to admit that he had been defeated even before stepping foot into the church.

“Don’t be silly,” the girl said with that damnable smile of hers. “The flowers don’t need to be replaced, they just need a little love. Here.” She gently pushed his hand back until the bouquet touched his chest.

“The flowers are coming back fine,” she said, motioning down the row of pews to the flowerbed where Sephiroth could see that the crushed stems were indeed righting themselves. “You can give those to someone special instead.”

Sephiroth looked down at the bouquet and frowned. Despite the accusations, he was not so socially inept to misunderstand the meaning behind offered flowers — he had specifically picked the seasonal Kalm varieties for their twin meanings of friendship and apology — nor the meaning behind their rejection.

“I thought that is what I was doing,” he said in what passed for a low mumble.

“ _Smooth,_ ” Aerith said with a delighted giggle, drawing out a frown from Sephiroth. “Well, thank you!” She took the bouquet from his hands, leaving behind a gentle pat over his knuckles. “They are very pretty.”

“You are… welcome.”

“Sorry,” she said with another giggle. “It’s just… you were acting like it was…” she paused for a moment, before shaking her head. “Nevermind! They are very lovely.”

He nodded, an uneasy feeling sweeping over him. It was difficult to work out if it was merely unease and worry over being misinterpreted, or if it related to that shadow he could feel on the periphery of his senses, keeping his every step inside this church under guard.

“I should return,” Sephiroth said, carefully guarding his expression.

“You should! Return here, that is,” Aerith said, holding the bouquet with both hands in front of her. “And thank you again for the lovely flowers.”

“But,” she said, voice laced with amusement. “Don’t try asking for a date, some people might get grumpy.”

Sephiroth looked at her in surprise. Why did she assume he would ask her out on a date after falling through her roof? “I did not… I do not do… dating.”

“You’re _so_ like Cloud,” Aerith said in between giggles. “Don’t tell him I said that, he’d be in a huff for weeks.”

“You… know Cloud?”

“Of course!”

“How?”

“We’re friends,” she replied, as though that held all the answers he needed.

Sephiroth sighed and left without saying another word, leaving only a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking down the aisle as quickly as he could without seeming like he was rushing. He was out of the door in seconds.

“He is rather peculiar, isn’t he?” Aerith said once he had disappeared, humming to herself. Her shadow gave a short, very familiar nod.

“That was dangerous, telling him you know Cloud.”

“Oh, lighten up grouchy butt.”

 

* * *

**December 17 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

With a contented sigh, Cloud leaned back in the — in _his_ — luxurious leather sofa. As much as he might think himself a simple country boy with simple country values, there really was nothing like a bit of upmarket comfort after a long day.

Behind closed eyes, he could feel Denzel shifting on the couch, trying to get the TV ready for when their guest arrived. The boy was always a bit nervous around his new mentor. He could see the endearing way Denzel followed Zack around with worship in his eyes, an outside perspective to how he was sure Denzel had followed himself around in the past.

Future.

Whatever.

“Denzel?”

“Yeah?”

“When’s Zack getting here?”

Cloud opened his eye slightly to catch Denzel checking his watch — as he had been doing every minute since getting home.

“He said at 7, so… five more minutes?”

Cloud nodded. Hopefully that would be enough time before the black ball of bounciness bounded in.

“I have some bad news,” he said.

Cloud rubbed his eyes as he pulled himself up and leaned forward. He had Denzel’s complete attention now, the entertainment unit ignored and remote dropped carelessly to one side.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tifa’s back,” Cloud said simply, catching Denzel’s gaze and holding it with his own. His boy’s eyes widened even further than normal.

“But… Cloud, that’s great!” Denzel was nearly bouncing in his seat. Had he been picking up more bad habits from Zack? “How’s that bad news, you guys can…”

“I didn’t say it was bad for me, Denzel,” Cloud let the corner of his mouth rise in a half smirk. “She’s really angry.”

“Oh.”

Before Denzel could go too far down that rabbit hole of guilt, Cloud pulled him back. “But you’re right, it’s good. It’s… nice, having more people to talk to about… this.”

“Will you tell Zack, then?”

Cloud raised an eyebrow.

“It’s… hard, keeping the story straight. And you did promise to tell him.”

“I know,” Cloud said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m worried about it getting out, though I guess it’s too late for that now. It’s a hell of an advantage”

Denzel grinned. “Zack’s convinced you know everything.”

“I didn’t even know who I was,” Cloud said, shaking his head. “I didn’t even know that Angeal and Genesis existed. Nearly as famous as Sephiroth himself, couldn’t even remember.”

“Do you know what happened to them?”

“A little? I know Angeal died, I’m guessing that was the degradation, but I can’t remember what happened to Genesis.”

Cloud frowned. Their biggest advantage, but once again his memory was the downfall of it all. Coming back had made it distinctly clear just how full of holes his head really was.

_Knockknockknock_

“That’ll be Zack!”

Cloud nodded, leaning back on the couch as Denzel leapt up in a flash to get the door. He could hear the happy babbling of the two as Denzel invited him in, but he tuned it out. Second chances, the power to see what is to come and change it… with some limits, it seemed. Tifa’s words had kicked things into perspective, as they often did. He had been enjoying being in this time, being before the point of no return and Fate willing, able to pull the world back from that edge.

Maybe he had deserved to enjoy the moment, but now it was time to get back to work. Saving the planet, his first career.

“Hey Cloud, whatcha thinking about over there?”

Cloud turned to face Zack, only to find he didn’t need to as a black blur launched itself over the back of his couch, gracefully clipping the edge and ending up face down in a cushion.

“Saving the world.”

“Cool,” Zack said, somewhat muffled as he righted himself and took the spot next to Cloud. “What’re we watching?”

“Beneath a Steel Sky,” Denzel said. “It’s my favourite.”

“Wasn’t that just released?”  
Denzel shrugged. “It was a quick favourite.”

“Good choice though. I want to see it before it gets banned.” Anything remotely critical of Shinra didn’t last long in Midgar. It was a miracle the movie even made it to release.

Cloud had seen the movie, in parts at least, many times already. Denzel had an old tape of it back home and in quieter times would watch through the movie three or four times a week. It was a slightly morbid production, from an old independent film crew in the slums. The plot revolved around a conspiracy by Shinra to slowly lower the plate down until the slums were crushed below and only the upper crust of Midgar remained. It was a… somewhat prophetic film for its time.

He smiled as he leaned back on the couch, more interested in watching Denzel and Zack than he was in the movie. It was so innocent, the way they interacted, two boys who had seen more than they should yet were still so open and joyous. He resolved to protect that, if he could. They didn’t deserve to go through any more sadness.


	39. The Ancients Called Jenova 'Alan'

**December 20 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Cloud took another look over the letter Denzel had given him. Plain paper, flowing handwriting in what must have been an expensive pen. It was clearly an apology from Genesis, an impressive feat considering it was a full page of writing that didn’t contain a single apology in it.

He huffed and leaned back in his chair. _You made a promise to Zack_ , he reminded himself before picking up the first page of research he’d asked to be delivered.

He stared at the crisp black scribbles, willing them to come together in some sort of coherent structure. Half of the page didn’t even make any sense to him, either because it was completely falsified bullshit or he was just too stupid to understand it.

Why had he promised to try and cure the two? Well, at least that was an easy answer. Because one, he’d made the mistake of reading the apology with Zack in the room. Two, Zack had then asked him to help save the two from their degradation, and three, he could never say no to Zack, not with such hope and _life_ in his eyes.

But he was going to let his friend down. This was so far beyond him he couldn’t begin to piece the parts together. Why couldn’t it be as simple as beating the shit out of someone and hoping that fixed it?

Throwing the paper back on the desk, Cloud tried to remember as much as he could about Angeal and Genesis. Angeal had been Zack’s mentor — he hadn’t even known Zack had a mentor until he’d subscribed to the fanclubs of the three Firsts when he first started gathering intelligence on Shinra. That had sparked a memory — Angeal had died in a place on the Northern Continent called Modeoheim, on the mission where Cloud had first met Zack. He could only assume it had something to do with the degradation that was affecting Genesis.

Genesis he knew even less about. The man did seem vaguely familiar, but it was only in hazy way. A very green, hazy, way. The most terrifying kind of memory. He’d been able to piece together the degradation issue fairly easily — Genesis and Angeal hadn’t been quite as… successful as Sephiroth and himself, their bodies slowly succumbing to the effects of the Jenova virus. Even Zack’s stolen memories don’t tell him the final fate of Genesis, only the weird sensation that he was obsessed with… Cloud’s hair?

So… nothing new there. There was a small amount of hope, if perhaps degradation could be related to Geostigma, then Aerith’s Great Gospel would be enough to purge the wayward Jenova cells. Theoretically.

That would have to be the backup plan, however. Aerith being comfortable enough in her power to be able to summon the Great Gospel would be years away, at best, and they just didn’t have that much time. By Cloud’s rough calculation, the burning of Nibelheim was less than two years away, with key events both known and unknown already starting to shape.

Angeal and Genesis were just one, but as it turned out, much bigger than he thought.

“Elena,” Cloud said, holding down what he hoped was the correct intercom button. “Call Rayleigh and tell her to gather everyone up. I’m gonna head down to the labs with a new project for them.”

_On it, boss!_

Cloud hoisted the stack of papers under one arm and made for the door. Time to see if he could count on his new team.

 

* * *

 

Between his administrative duties as head of the Science Department and the upkeep of SOLDIER, Cloud had been spending more of his time at the hospital on the tower’s base than he had on the top floors where the research labs were housed. He was glad to see that the labs had been renovated since he had deposed Hojo, the cells and cages replaced with offices and desks for all the assistants he had pouring over the documents that came back from Hojo’s old labs.

The researchers had gathered in the centre of the floor, all eyes on him as he strolled down the metal grille steps to the open area that once displayed steel tables and drains built in to the floor, now a meeting area with rollable whiteboards scattered near the walls. Rayleigh had just finished a heated whisper exchange with Forza, one of Hojo’s disciples and a man who looked more like a bear stuffed into a tiny lab coat.

“Something I should know?” Cloud asked, eyes flicking between the two. Forza scowled back, while Rayleigh just refused to meet his gaze.

“Just a disagreement,” Rayleigh said. “I’m sure—”  
“It’s bullshit,” Forza growled. “First you cancel our research, then we’re going through fucking paperwork for a month, and now what?”

“It’s important,” Cloud said, entirely refusing to elaborate. He glanced around the room. Clearly some of the researchers felt the same way as Forza, folding their arms and nodding along with the grievance. Others, like Rayleigh, looked like they wanted nothing more than to hide inside their lab coats.

Forza huffed at the flat response, but Cloud cut him off before he could respond. This was just about being a leader, right? He’d done that before. “Two First Class SOLDIERs are dying because of experiments this department has done and people here have been involved in. We’ve gotta fix that. Everyone is on our next project-”

Apparently that wasn’t enough, and Forza cut in. “You’re a fraud,” he accused, glaring down at Cloud. “You don’t even know what we do here, how the hell did you manage to become department head when-”

“ _Forza_ ,” hissed Rayleigh, smacking the bear on the bicep.

“You’re right,” Cloud admitted. It’s not like he hadn’t expected some resistance, after all he wasn’t the first person to kill for the position of department head. “Like half the directors at Shinra, I don’t work in my department’s field. Get over it.”

Maybe his inspiring speech skills had become rusty over the years.

The room filled with hushed, unhappy muttering, so Cloud pressed on. Maybe a compromise would work.

“Rayleigh can lead your project, and you can all report to her? Does that work?”

But Forza pounced on the compromise as a display of seeming weakness. “Not good enough,” he growled, leaning over Cloud and pushing his shoulder out to increase his already impressive size. Cloud had noted the man like to use his physicality to intimidate the other staff and it seemed he was not above trying it out on his boss. Cloud didn’t need to be reminded that he was rather short for a man, but he did hold a special resentment for those who tried to use it against him.

It must have been a comical sight, though Cloud was unfortunately not able to see it from his position. Forza, nearly twice his size and puffing out like an angry hen, was looming over him and then in the blink of an eye, he vanished.

The speed he had at his level of enhancement was a hell of a thing, and none of the unenhanced in the room would have seen him move, slipping between Forza and Rayleigh in one fluid move. A quick poke to Forza’s kidney and the already overbalanced man flailed in surprise as he dropped to the floor in an undignified heap.

Tifa was right. Might as well enjoy the situation, while they still could. 

Grabbing Forza by the back of the neck, Cloud hauled the burly man off his feet, letting him dangle in front of the rest of the scientist, his feet kicking uselessly for purchase.

Cloud ignored that fact that even with his arm completely outstretched, Forza’s feet were just brushing the floor.

“I dunno if you’ve got a bug up yer arse because you wanted the corner office or if you’re just throwing a tantrum ‘cause you can’t cut up innocents anymore,” Cloud said, and wow, did he really get closer to Cid’s accent when he was borrowing those phrases? “Couldn’t give a shit, either. You wanna leave, leave. Otherwise do as you’re told.”

He dropped Forza down and to the man’s credit, he didn’t bluster, just fell back into line with the rest of the scientists. Who said his leadership was rusty, huh?

“We need to focus on finding out how we can help Angeal and Genesis,” Cloud said, to an array of blank stares and grumbles. Hadn’t he just dealt with this? “Do we have anything so far?”

“Uh, sir…” one of the scientists mumbled. “Hollander couldn’t find a cure for them, and… well, we don’t have half of his experience… or any of his research.”

“We’d be trying to fix Hollander’s lifetime work without knowing a fraction of what he does about them.”

Cloud rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Well, maybe there are some things we know that he doesn’t,” Cloud reasoned. “What do we know so far?”

Forza stepped up. “They were products of the Jenova Project, which was started to allow humans to manifest the powers of the Ancients by injecting cells from an Ancient specimens that-”

“Except no one ever checked that Jenova was actually an Ancient first…” Cloud muttered. Except not quietly enough… he slowly felt the weight of the room’s stares bearing down on him. “What?”

“Are you… suggesting that Jenova wasn’t an Ancient?”

Cloud pondered that for a moment, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. Did Shinra really not know? Surely Hojo did, but… then again given Sephiroth’s ignorance of the topic and his reaction, Hojo didn’t share that information… so did Hollander even know?

“The Ancients called Jenova ‘calamity’. She infected them, took the form of their loved ones to get close and nearly wiped their race out before they could seal her in the North.”

“Then we unsealed her,” Rayleigh said softly, her breath slightly hitched. “I wondered why the abilities that Jenova passed on were… well, not like our research into the Ancients would suggest.”

A pair of researchers had even pulled out a notebook and were focused on scrubbing down as much as they could.

“How did you know this?” Forza demanded.

“Gast knew. Hojo knew… probably from Gast, as usual. I guess Hojo just didn’t share it.”

“What else do you know that we don’t?”

“Go on, we’ll find out.”

“Well, Project G was one part of the Jenova Project. One of the scientists, Gillian Hewley, injected herself with Jenova cells.” Well, didn’t _that_ sound familiar. “Those were then transferred into the infant Genesis, and naturally to her son, Angeal.”

“That may be why only Genesis is showing signs of degradation,” another researcher added.

“Has anyone found anything in the research we’ve brought back?” Cloud asked.

“It’s all Hojo’s, so there isn’t much,” Rayleigh said. “He didn’t even like to acknowledge Hollander’s work.”

“Or any work that wasn’t his,” someone else muttered. Forza looked like he was about to reply to that, but decided better of it.

“SOLDIER found one of Hollander’s labs in a reactor,” Cloud said. “See if there’s anything in there.”

“Right away, sir.”

To Cloud’s surprise, it was Forza who has said that. He inclined his head to the other man.

 

* * *

 

Cloud had retreated back to his office in the hospital as soon as he’d been able to slip away. While it seemed that Forza had fallen in line, for now, he could still feel the undercurrent of unease in the place.

Or that could just be his own reaction to the labs.

He was just about to get back to work when the door to his office creaked open.

“Professor?”

“Rayleigh,” Cloud greeted. “You found something?”

“No, sir,” she said, taking the seat opposite his desk. “It’s been an hour, we haven’t even started. I came here to discuss the… situation.”

Cloud nodded. They might as well deal with the behemoth in the room.

“The factions are in disarray. Hollander’s faction think he’s going to come back and take your position. Hojo’s faction — well, they’re still loyal to him, in a way, but they’re been in the most disarray.”

Factions, huh. He figured the Science Department was kind of tribal, but it seemed to be giving the military a run for its gil.

“So what’s your faction?”

“Yours, sir.”

Cloud responded with his most unimpressed look.

“Ok, ok, fine. I was in Hojo’s faction. But I don’t think anyone will cross you now that they know you’re SOLDIER.”

“I’m not SOLDIER,” Cloud replied with a sigh. “But I get it. Following me because they’re afraid isn’t gonna work.” Hojo got loyalty, he got fear. Gaia, how messed up was this?

“I think if you take the lead in this project, if you show everyone that—”

“Or… you could do it.”

“Pardon?”

“I kinda meant what I said back there, that you should lead it,” Cloud said. “I’m not gonna be here forever, maybe you need your own faction.”

“You’re thinking of leaving?”  
“This wasn’t really a long term thing.”

“What will you do?”

Cloud thought about it for a moment. What would he really like to do, when all of this was over? So much opportunity, here in the past… would he go back to the way it was?

“Go back to being a country doctor, I think. Raise my family, go from town to town fixing broken bones and delivering babies.” The same, but… better. With more people still there to visit.

Rayleigh chuckled. “It sounds simple… but nice. Maybe a bit too slow for me.”

“That’s what makes it interesting.” Cloud gave her a small twitch of a smile. “Excitement’s a bit boring for me now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering about the chapter title, as I was writing that line autocorrect decided to change 'Calamity' to 'Alan' and I lost my shit for about 5 minutes.


	40. Buried in the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Modeo-time!

**December 25 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

One of the advantages of carrying a staff was that the more traditional sword users in SOLDIER had no idea how to fight you. When that meant your sadistic friend and mentor used it to justify being practice for two SOLDIER Third Classes, it didn’t seem like much of an advantage.

The two of them were flanking Denzel now, co-ordinating just enough that he could no longer flick his grip up and down his arm to easily block their strikes, forcing him to spin and twirl and all that other shit Cloud loved to avoid one blade while he concentrated on parrying the other.

Pushing the SOLDIER in front of him back a few steps with a particularly hard strike, Denzel leaped into a backflip, pushing all his enhanced strength into his legs to clear the reach of the SOLDIER behind him.

Of course, being beyond the reach of Essai’s sword didn’t mean Essai was beyond the reach of his much longer staff. Denzel let the staff fall in the zenith of his flip, catching one end in his hand and swinging to clip the off-guard SOLDIER behind the ear with the other end.

It wasn’t enough to really hurt, just to startle Essai long enough for Denzel to land out of reach and backpedal enough to put some distance between them.

He was just brushing his sweat drenched fringe out of his eyes when he was startled by a whooping behind him.

“Whoooo! Go Mouse! That was awesome!” 

Gaia, it was impossible to even be annoyed at Zack, the man was too endearing for that. He flashed Zack a smile and finished sweeping his hair out of his face, falling back into a ready position. The others were closing back in, spreading apart as they approached to flank him again.

“Sorry guys, we gotta cut this short. Me ’n’ Mouse got a mission.”

“What’s up, Zack?” Denzel asked, clipping his staff back into the holster on his back.

“We’re following a lead on Angeal, some base that Hollander might have up in the north.”

“Where’re you guys going?” Sebastian asked. Much to Denzel’s annoyance and the others’ amusement, Essai had wrapped Denzel up in a hug and was using the leverage to mess his hair up.

“Modeoheim.”

 

* * * 

 

For all the things that sucked about working at Shinra, being able to fly in helicopters was not one of them. In the old world, only a few helicopters were still in serviceable condition and nearly all of them were jealously guarded by Rufus and the Turks. And as amazing as it was the first time he had taken a ride in Cid’s airship, there was something more, something exciting about a helicopter.

Instead of the sedate high altitude ride of the airship, they were skimming along the water at a breakneck speed, low enough that it felt like any bump could leave them tumbling into the waves below.

The cliffs of the Northern Continent rose up out of the sea before them, sheer and white, the pale stone barely able to jut out of the layers of snow caked deep and hanging over the edge. The helicopter pulled up to lift them gracefully over the lip of the cliff and nothing could beat the view in that moment, high enough to see the continent laid bare before them, low enough that not a single silver mountain or white forest lost its majesty.

Even Zack, the perpetual nuisance child in any long journey, was hanging out the side in glee, watching as the scenery flew by.

“Well, that makes a four hours flight worth it,” Zack said over the headset, turning to Denzel to flash a grin and flick him a thumbs up.

“Nothing makes a four hour flight with you worth it,” Tseng called from the cockpit.

“Hey now, Tseng, buddy. That hurts.”

“Not as much as a four hour flight with you.”

“Wow. Ok. I’ll have you know you’re off my Millennium card list.”

Denzel couldn’t help a small giggle — chuckle. Small, manly chuckle. “It is the first time you’ve stopped fidgeting, Zack.”

“It’s beautiful, though, right? Reminds me of going over the Nibel Mountains.” 

“Didn’t you guys get shot down over the Nibel mountains?”

Zack glared at Denzel. “No. Don’t you dare-“

“Gentlemen,” Tseng called from the cockpit. “We have something approaching.”

“You just had to,” Zack said, flicking Denzel’s ear.

“Don’t blame me for this!”

“I am totally blaming you for this.”

 

* * * 

 

“Mouse? Tseng? Hey guys?”

Denzel shoved away the blanket of snow, shaking his head to dislodge some of the white powder caught up in his hair. He was just glad SOLDIER actually had a cold weather uniform as he wrapped the scarf around his neck and shoulders.

“Over here,” he said quietly, grumbling as he pulled himself to his feet. He spotted Zack hauling one of the troopers out of the snow.

“No signal out here,” Tseng said as he brushed past Denzel, his phone held out in front of him. “We will have to count on Shinra picking up the mayday from the helicopter.”

Tseng, Zack and both the troopers. The crash must not have been as bad as he feared if they all managed to survive without injury.

“We should have reached Modeoheim by now,” Tseng added. “We will need to make up for lost time.”

“Geez,” Zack whined, running a hand through his hair. “We just crashed and that’s all you gotta say?”

“Come on, Zack,” Denzel said, tugging his mentor’s hand.

“Alright then, follow me everyone!”

The cold and densely packed snow didn’t seem to dampen Zack’s spirit at all and he cheerfully let the way through the knee deep snow, legs kicking out a path ahead of him. Everyone else following behind him like grumpy ducklings, Denzel shivering and grumbling at every step he was forced to take.

“What’s the matter, Mouse?” Zack asked in front of him, and though Denzel could not see his face he just knew that it was covered with an insufferable grin. “Not used to the great outdoors? I thought you were from the mountains!”

“Cloud’s from the mountains,” Denzel spat back. “I was born in Midgar.”

“Hey, touchy, Mouse! City boy, huh?” Zack turned to face Denzel, not even stopping his stride, instead walking backwards and kicking snow into high arcs with his boots. “Well, just follow me and you’ll be fine! I’m a regular backwater expert.”

The way Zack proudly announced himself as a backwater expert by pointing to his face with his thumbs was too much. Denzel couldn’t even stay grumpy at him for bringing up — indirectly, of course, Zack would never mean that — his, well, lack of a biological relationship with his father. It didn’t bother Cloud, so why should it bother him?

Because he still missed his biological parents, and even that pang of longing made him feel guilty, like he was betraying Cloud and Tifa with his feelings for long lost parents. Except they weren’t long lost, they were _here_ and he still had yet to go and _meet_ them.

“Hey Mouse, why so glum? You right back there?”

“Yeah, it’s just… Zack, you know I’m adopted, right?”

He knew it had been exactly the wrong thing to say when Zack stopped the entire procession in its tracks to swoop down and pick him up in a bear hug. “I’m sorry, buddy,” Zack said, swinging him gently in his arms. Denzel made a valiant effort to kick at his shins.

“Hey, I’m sorry!” Zack laughed, letting Denzel drop back to solid ground. Still, he kept his hands on Denzel’s shoulders and stared right at him with those earnest blue eyes. “I wasn’t thinking, Denzel. I’m really sorry.”

Denzel turned his head and broke the gaze. “It’s fine,” he said, cheeks flushing. “Zack, please. It’s ok.” His eyes wandered back and he caught the softness in Zack’s eyes. He smiled. “I’m proud of it, actually. Cloud’s an amazing dad.”

Zack grinned and straightened up, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “Yeah, he’s-”

“Don’t you even fucking dare.”

Zack grinned and twirled on his heel, pushing back through the snow. Tseng gave him a _look_ and Denzel sighed, falling in line behind his mercurial mentor. Gods, why did he even like the guy, again?

 

* * *

 

Cloud raised an eyebrow at Reno. Since when did the redhead ever come to his office, except to annoy him while he was trying to work.

“I’ve got something for you,” Reno said, sauntering up to his desk and perching himself on the corner. “Your kid was flying out with Tseng, to check up on some base in the frigid fucking north. Modeoheim, I think.”

The name set off a chain reaction in Cloud’s volatile memory. Modeoheim. Their chopper crashed, he met Zack, Zack killed Angeal.

“Fuck!” Cloud yelled, pushing away from his desk and standing quickly enough to for Reno to startle and leap off himself. “Their chopper crashed!”

“How’d you—” Reno shook his head. “Y’know what, nevermind.”

Cloud grabbed the coat that was hanging on the rack in the corner and pulled Reno out the door. “C’mon, we need to get out there.”

Reno already had his phone out. “Told you I was on your fucking side,” he muttered to no-one in particular.

 

* * *

 

Denzel groaned as they reached the top of yet another climb, only to see the Modeoheim base sprawled out in the distance, looking as far aways it ever had. “Maybe we should find some shelter, stop for the night.”

Tseng pushed past him to get a better view of the base. “The facility is not far. There will be better shelter there.”

“You said it wasn’t far three hills ago,” Zack whined.

“Then it is less far now.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. The troops must be dying out here.”

Tseng hummed softly to himself and turned to address the troopers. “Well? Can you make it to the facility.”

The pair stopped for a moment, catching their breath before chanting, “yes, sir,” in less than enthusiastic unison.

Tseng turned back to Zack and let out an amused little chuckle. “If the troopers can make, I’m sure that SOLDIER shouldn’t have a problem.”

“This guy…” Zack groaned.

It was well after dark and the company was facing strong, biting winds as they entered the compound. Denzel had drawn in on himself, arms wrapped around his torso in a futile attempt to stop the wind chill from cutting deep into his bones. Zack was doing no better and the poor troopers, despite being bundled up in much warmer uniforms, were having trouble putting one foot in front of the other. Tseng, the arrogant bastard, was strolling around in his suit like he didn’t feel the cold, probably suffering six kinds of hypothermia and frostbite just to make it look like he wasn’t bothered.

“It’s good we arrived after dark,” Tseng said. It took all of Denzel’s willpower not to kick him in the shins. “We can approach undetected.”

“We need to get inside soon,” Zack said. “The troops won’t last much longer.”

Given the sprawling complex and the lack of life to be find in the area, it didn’t take long to pick out a suitable location, taking the office inside a delivery warehouse where they could keep the heat in and the flames of a fire wouldn’t be spotted from the outside.

A real fireplace would be too dangerous, either the smoke would escape and they would be spotted from anywhere in the compound, or it wouldn’t and they would suffocate inside the small room. Instead Zack had Denzel take his fire materia out and he was carefully imbuing pieces of scrap metal with heat, letting them become red hot before tossing them into a pile in the centre of the room to smoulder and radiate heat.

The troopers were huddled together around the pile of melted slag, still wrapped up in their uniforms and rubbing over their clothing to warm up. Denzel perched on the edge of the office desk and watched as Zack crouched down next to them.

“How’re you guys doing. Ok?” Zack asked, helping one trooper take his helmet off, which encouraged the other to remove it. They looked so young, only… well, his age. Denzel never thought of himself as young, no kid ever did, but seeing boys his age so vulnerable, shivering and barely hanging on, brought reality home.

Years ago, when he had asked Reeve if he could join the WRO, it wasn’t too much of a surprise when Reeve had told him he was too young. After all, he was only eleven. Under Shinra, you would sign up for the army at thirteen, drink at fourteen and enter a relationship at fifteen.

“Just cold, sir,” the one nearest to Zack said.

“C’mon, bunch up around the metal, then.” Zack nearly shoved the two troopers together trying to get them to bundle in near the heat. “I’m Zack—”

The trooper furthest away from him snickered, “we know”, under his breath. Denzel’s eyes widened and he stared across at Zack. There’s no way he should be able to hear that, right? Zack caught his eye and responded with a slow wink.

“What’s your guys names?”

“Hyne,” the trooper on the right said, her helmet finally off and in her lap. She was brushing her wavy brown hair out with her fingers, trying to free it from the many hours of helmet induced styling.

“Alric,” said the trooper closest to Zack. He was a short kid, especially pale contrasted to Hyne’s rich brown skin. His short blond hair was matted and soaked in cold sweat, making the trooper look too close to a soggy cat.

Zack laughed. “I’d recognise that accent anywhere! You’re from the Nibel area, Alric?”

Alric ducked his head, trying to hide a blush. “Vanaheim, sir.”

“ _Zack_ ,” Denzel warned, shooting his mentor a dirty look.

“Sorry, boss!” Zack said with a huge grin, giving Denzel a sloppy salute. “He doesn’t like me talking to mountain boys,” Zack stage-whispered to the scandalised trooper. Denzel rolled his eyes. “He gets jealous.”

“I’m _not_ jealous,” Denzel yelled, indignant. He flushed at his outburst as all eyes in the room turned to him. 

“It’s ok, Mouse,” Zack said, grin never wavering. “Y’know, you only needed to—”

“Second Fair, if you must insist on sexually harassing Shinra employees, I will be forced to report you to Director Lazard.” As always it was impossible to tell with Tseng, but Denzel could swear he detected a tone of playful humour in his voice.

“Hey, that’s totally not fair!” Zack protested.

“You’re right. I should report it to Sephiroth instead.”

Denzel ducked his face behind his scarf, hiding his grin at Zack’s spluttering indignation. He couldn’t help but feel that his mentor deserved it, though. “Zack,” he said more seriously, catching the other’s eye. “You really should drop it.”

Zack’s gaze briefly flicked to Tseng and then back. “I just think that—”

“It makes him uncomfortable,” Denzel said. _It makes me uncomfortable_ , he thought, _because… no… it was inappropriate_. “I know it’s kinda a joke, but it’s been three months… it’s kinda—”

“Obsessive,” Tseng cut in.

“Uh, yeah.” As much as admitting that made Denzel feel awkward.

Zack stared down at the smouldering heap of slag. His eyes flicked back towards Denzel, but never long enough to catch his gaze. “I thought I could win him over.”

“By ignoring how he feels?”

Zack chuffed, half a laugh trying to escape his chest. “Well, when you put it like that…” He raised his head, but still did not catch Denzel’s eye. “D’ya think I ever had a chance?”

“Well, even if Cloud was interested in that sort of thing… my mom would still beat your ass for it.”

“He’s straight? No way!”

“Straight as an aro,” Denzel said, unable to suppress a grin of pun-filled shame. Zack was giving him a _look_. “What?”

“I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed in that, or that you can’t pronounce ‘arrow’.”

Denzel grinned. Not only were the corny jokes fun, they were often the only way to make Cloud finally lose his composure and laugh. “Aromantic. He’s… not really straight, but you still didn’t have a chance.”

“Wait, you have a mum?” Zack blurted out. Denzel raised an eyebrow and Zack reeled back a little. “Sorry! I mean…”

“Yeah, Tifa. She and Cloud took me in.” Denzel felt a prickling of awareness on his neck and he glanced over at Tseng, who was paying very close attention to the conversation.

“But…” Zack scratched the back of his neck like a man who knew he was walking through a social minefield. “How does that work?”

Denzel shrugged. “I haven’t really asked about my parents’ love lives.” Cloud had sat him down once, trying to explain about romance and sexuality. For other kids it would have been the birds and the bees talk but Cloud was _so_ bad at it he spent most of his preteen years hoping to never touch the topic of sexuality again. Even Tifa’s attempts to repair the mess had only resulted in more damage.

“Heh, ah… yeah.”

Denzel glanced over at the troopers, both of them averting their gaze and looking as awkward as you’d expect in the situation. Tseng might as well have been writing notes.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Denzel said. Anything to avoid continuing further down this topic. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Zack threw him a wink and he couldn’t help the flush that crept into his face. “Of course, sir,” his mentor said teasingly.


	41. Modeoheim

**December 26 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Denzel caught the last watch, spending the last few hours feeding heat into the slag pile as dawn filtered through the dusty windows. Their night had been disturbed by nothing more than the ceiling creaking under the weight of the piling snow.

As soon as there was light enough for the unenhanced to see by, Denzel roused the others from their sleep. Tseng gave him a curt nod as he was woken, Zack and the troopers curses and muttering. There wasn’t much to pack — most of their supplies were buried in the snow under the ruins of their chopper — but Denzel made sure to check the few things they still had. Weapons, a few rations that they had been lucky enough to salvage from the wreckage and a bucket of fresh snow that had melted into water overnight.

Denzel and Zack risked the contamination of the water, confident in the ability of their mako fuelled systems to handle any bugs, while Tseng and the troopers turned it down. They weren’t desperate enough yet, though that would change if rescue didn’t come by the end of the day.

Still tired and grumbling but much improved over the night before, their group left their safe haven to search the town. The doors of the warehouse opened to reveal a bitter snowstorm, howling winds biting through their clothes. Denzel pulled his scarf over his nose and mouth, one gloved hand shielding his eyes from the stinging hail.

“Do we really need to go out in this?” One of the troopers yelled. Over the sound of the wind in his ears, he couldn’t tell which one.

“We should start at the reactor,” Tseng replied. In the blinding white backdrop of the blizzard, the abandoned reactor loomed over the town, a dark grey silhouette shadowed behind the rest of the buildings. Denzel wasn’t in any mood to argue and he followed behind Zack, his staff out and at the ready. He hoped there were no monsters waiting for them inside, the weather itself was deadly enough. Whoever thought a mission to the Northern Continent in December was a good idea needed to be fired out of the Junon cannon.

The rest of the buildings looked to be in as good a shape as the warehouse they had stayed the night in. Many of the roofs had caved in from accumulated snow and many of the older structures, wooden houses and stores that must have been built by the residents rather than Shinra, had fallen apart from years of rot and decay. Even the Shinra buildings still standing, mostly steel arrays of silos and machinery hooked up by a web of pipes leading to the reactor itself, had not fared well. The steel facade was cracked and brittle, paint peeling and lines of rust etched into every crack.

“Wait!” Zack yelled ahead of them, pulling their whole group to a stop. Denzel looked ahead, but could only spot a shadow disappearing into the snow.

“Someone was there,” Zack said once they had pulled together close enough to be heard over the screeching winds. “They went into the building over there—” Zack pointed, but Denzel could not make it out as any different from the rest of their grey world. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Denzel fell in line behind Zack, flanking to his right while Tseng went to the left. The troopers, resilient despite the harsh conditions, took up the rear with their rifles at the ready. As they approached, the building loomed out of them from its white cloak. A tall brick and tile building with the stains of water damage streaking down its walls, it stood out from the rest of the homes both in its old fashion construction and its relatively good structural condition, compared to the other collapsed wrecks dotting the hillside.

Zack pushed open the red steel door and Denzel followed him inside, one hand gripped tightly to his staff. Zack had the Buster Sword out as soon as they stepped through the door, the grip held in both hands and the large blade crossing his torso.

The building would have been peaceful, had the snowstorm not been raging outside. Hail pelted the large glass windows that welcomed heavy beams of filtered white light into the room. The walls and floors were a pale, serene blue with alternating green tiles. A sign near the entrance read “Modeo Public Bathhouse” in faded red letters and Denzel couldn’t think of a more tempting proposition after a day of trekking through a planet’s worth of powdered white bullshit.

That is, if the baths had been running. Each of the pools had been drained, leaving behind bare stained tiles and rusted plumbing. Dust had settled in a fine layer across everything, save the paths of footprints splitting off into every room.

“We’ll split up,” Zack whispered. “Mouse, you go with Tseng and head upstairs. I’ll take the troopers on this floor.”

Denzel nodded his acknowledgement of the order. He may not have been too happy at the prospect of splitting up, but at least the building was small enough that they could come running at the first sign of trouble. Tseng didn’t seem to have any such reservations and had already started up the stairs. Denzel rushed behind him to catch up.

The second floor of the bathhouse presented much the same view as the first. Stained tiles and rotting wood, though the steel beam rafters holding up the ceiling still looked to be in good condition. Enough light filtered through the filthy windows to see by, each yellow beam carrying a sea of dust in its haze.

Tseng stepped down from the dais at the entrance into the huge tiled pool area below them, holstering his gun as he went. He tensed as his shoe made a loud click on the tile floor. Before Denzel could react, a white blur shot down from the rafters and Tseng went flying back against the wall.

Denzel had rushed the attacker and was already raining down a series of blows before he could make out the shape. Each strike was blocked effortlessly, hard leather gloves catching his staff’s every move.

The enemy was close, too close to see and too close to defend against, inside the reach of his staff. A heavy punch caught Denzel’s chest and sent him tumbling backwards, the wind knocked out of him. He caught a glimpse of Angeal’s face, framed by dirt stained white wings jutting out from his right shoulder.

Denzel hit the floor with an unceremonious thump, tiles cracking around the impact.

“Zack!” he tried to yell, but all that came out was a loud wheeze and a crushing pain in his chest. He looked up through the spots in his vision to see Angeal approaching Tseng. He didn’t have enough time.

He closed his eyes. Short, gasping breaths. The pull of the materia in his bracer, all of them singing over each other, mudding their voices. He reached out with his mind for the restore and it responded, singing over the others and showing him the trail, wisps of lifestream leading from the materia to his injuries.

He pushed his power into the materia and the memories inside it unlocked, filling his mind with the knowledge of the Planet. He could feel his ribs out of place, jagged edges of the bone piercing his lungs. He pushed and they snapped back in place, fine threads knitting them back together. He reached for his lungs, to drain the blood that pooled in from the wounds. But the light in the materia was fading, the path to that knowledge fading away in the darkness.

He gasped, and the knowledge was gone.

Taking a deep breath, he yelled for Zack again. The edges of his vision were darkening but he could see Angeal drop Tseng and turn on his heel, striding towards him. His vision faded.

Denzel woke again with a start, his ears ringing at the sound of crashing metal a mere arm’s length in front of his face. Angeal held a standard issue broadsword, holding back the heavy weight of Zack’s Buster Sword as his former student pushed him back.

Once the fight had moved safely away from him, Denzel cast another cure on himself, finishing the job he had started and fixing the worst of the damage. Picking himself up from the floor, he grabbed his staff and leaped over the railing, ready to join his mentor in combat.

Though Zack had certainly improved over the months, the weight of the Buster Sword was taking its toll. The powerful blows he swung at Angeal were wearing them both down, but being forced to block quick strikes with the humongous blade made him use all his energy on keeping up.

“You’ll never kill me using the blunt edge, Zack,” Angeal taunted.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t wanna kill you.”

“Do you remember what we said? That our enemy is all that creates suffering?”

Zack stepped back, Buster Sword held out wide in one hand. He was leaving himself vulnerable. “Stop it, Angeal! You’re not my enemy!”

“No… I suppose… to be an enemy requires more will than a monster can have.”

Angeal held his broadsword in both hands and charged. Denzel rushed from his side, a quick swing of his staff catching the First off guard with a blow to the back of his head. Angeal turned to face him, sword raised to block against the new threat. The distraction gave Zack enough time to recover and soon both of them, mentor and student, were fighting against their combined foe.

Denzel used both ends of his staff, swinging back and forth to block Angeal’s swings while Zack concentrated on using the Buster Sword on offence, pushing Angeal back with each crushing hit from the massive sword.

“Denzel, support!”

Denzel nodded at the order from Zack, breaking away from the fight with his staff raised out to block any opportunistic attacks. He took a quick glance at his Aegis Armlet, checking the materia he had set in place. He could do this.

Laying a Haste spell over Zack, Denzel circled around Angeal and pointed his staff. The weapon made the Bolt spell easier to aim, lightning firing from the metal tip of the rod and forcing Angeal to use his sword to deflect the arcing current. Even through the leather gloves, Denzel could see the effect of the lightning, Angeal’s muscles clenching involuntarily as he struggled to keep up with the speed enhanced attacks of his former student.

A well timed barrier cast on Zack cost Angeal the only opening he had managed to find and the older SOLDIER seemed to decide that was enough. Pushing Zack back with a heavy shove of their crossed swords, Angeal rushed Denzel, his sword swinging in a wide arc.

Denzel tried to bring his staff up to block but was just not quick enough. The last thing he saw was the glimmering steel blade swinging into his face.

 

* * *

 

“This is a hell of storm!” Reno yelled over the intercom. Their small helicopter was being constantly buffeted by the winds, throwing them precariously close to the jagged mountain edges that dominated the area. “If we land, I doubt we can take off again until it’s over!”

“We’ll deal with it then!” Cloud replied.

“Alright, you’re the boss, boss.” Reno flicked the channel on their radio. “Hey, Shinra tower, this is Reno of the Turks. We’re gonna land at Modeoheim, see if we can’t find our wayward SOLDIERs and fearless leader. Big storm blowin’ at the moment, may be out of contact for a bit.”

Reno didn’t even wait for an acknowledgement before dropping them down into the white blanket that covered the town. They skirted over the rooftops, narrowly avoiding deadly collisions only by the width of the skids.

Cloud gave Reno a brief glance. At least the pilot didn’t seem too concerned, though given it was Reno, he probably wouldn’t be looking that concerned if they were spinning out of control. He turned his attention back to the town itself.

Seeing the buildings covered by deep snow had brought back a rush of memories from when he had been here on that mission… the first time he had met Zack. They’d captured Hollander in the reactor and Zack had killed Genesis by knocking him back into the reactor core… though something about that didn’t seem right and not just because being thrown into reactor cores hadn’t proven to be terribly inconvenient for certain types of SOLDIER. Later he’d been searching a public bath house with Tseng when they’d been attacked by Angeal. Zack had come across them and had been forced to… kill Angeal.

Right, well that certainly explained the uneasiness he had with both Modeoheim and Angeal.

“Hey,” Cloud said, pointing at a familiar looking grey brick building standing tall out of the snow. “Set us down there.”

Reno did his best, but the snow was so deep in the streets that their helicopter sunk down to its belly by the time the engines has stopped. Both Cloud and Reno shared a grimace. It would take a lot of digging because it could take off again.

Pulling First Tsurugi out of the back seat, Cloud slid it into his harness. He hadn’t spared the time to find more suitable clothes, even his battle clothes, so he had opted for just wearing his harness over a heavy cold weather coat he had ‘borrowed’ from the armoury stocks near the helipads. Reno followed behind him, shaking into his own winter coat and performing one last double check of his mag-rod.

Cloud could tell something was wrong as soon as they entered into the bath house. Two troopers were lying on each other near the entrance, a long spatter of blood droplets sprayed along the wall. The sound of yells and desperate fighting echoed down the stairs.

“Check on them,” Cloud ordered, pulling his sword from the harness. “I’ll get to the fight.”

He could have sworn he heard Reno mutter “you get all the fun” but he was already halfway up the stairs, taking each step two or three at a time and only wishing his legs were longer so he could get up faster.

He was moving fast enough by the time he cleared the stairs that his feet weren’t even touching the ground at the top and as soon as he could spot what was waiting for him, he saw red.

Denzel was lying in a pool of blood, again. Zack was standing over him, facing down one of the Firsts and barely able to keep up. Again.

Kicking off the railing, Cloud split the blades of First Tsurugi in midair, pulling a short sword into his left hand to pair with the main blade. With the ease of experience he swung down with all his weight, sword slamming against Angeal’s hastily raised blade.

“Cloud!” Zack yelled, happy and relieved. Angeal backed away warily.

Swinging the larger blade in one hand, Cloud circled Angeal, eyeing up the SOLDIER. To say he was furious would be an understatement. If Zack hadn’t been there, if Denzel hadn’t been lying on the floor and in dire need of his attention, he couldn’t help but think that he would be tearing Angeal apart right now. Slowly.

“Check on Denzel,” Cloud said. “I’ll take care of him.”

Zack nodded and rushed over to Denzel, laying the Buster Sword on the ground before carefully checking Denzel’s vitals. Angeal stood back, eyes darting warily between the two. His eyes fixed on the sword in Cloud’s hand.

“Full of surprises… to take on a First Class SOLDIER…”

Cloud narrowed his eyes. Interesting, if word hadn’t travelled far enough to reach Angeal’s ears. Perhaps he was keeping up the pretence better than he though.

It hardly mattered. Like Genesis, Angeal would be finding out just how powerful Cloud was. Rushing in to engage with the SOLDIER, he swung his swords in succession, each blade ringing as Angeal blocked the arcing swings of his strikes. But he was nowhere near started, and Angeal looked like he had already gone ten rounds with a behemoth… or an energetic puppy.

Locking Angeal’s broadsword with his smaller blade, Cloud pinched it between the larger blade of Tsurugi, trapping the broadsword and pushing it out wide. Letting the smaller sword go, Cloud spun and lifted from the ground, kicking Angeal with enough force to knock him off his feet. The taller SOLDIER slid along the floor, catching Cloud’s smaller blade as he went.

Angeal pulled himself to his feet, holding Cloud’s sword in one hand and his own broadsword in the other. His grin quickly faded when Cloud quick snapped the lock on Tsurugi’s hilt, pulling a slightly longer blade out and into his left hand.

“That’s just showing off,” Angeal sneered, throwing Cloud’s sword to the floor and taking up his broadsword in both hands.

Cloud shrugged and charged the man again, using his larger, though now lighter, blade to block Angeal’s attacks and the smaller blade to get under his guard while he was distracted, leaving behind small nicks and slices on his skin at each opportunity.

“Death by a thousand cuts,” Angeal commented wryly. “This is not how I planned to go out…”

“Is this how you planned to leave Zack?” Cloud retorted, pushing both of his blades against Angeal’s singular sword. They locked eyes over the joined blades, Angeal’s eyes filled with grim determination, Cloud’s eyes boiling over with hatred and rage.

“There is only one end fit for a monster.”

Cloud agreed. Blue flames flicking along his shoulders and down his sword, the blades separating on their own and flying out to form a ring around Angeal, where they hovered, each of them wreathed in blue flame. Cloud moved in a blur, faster than all but the most enhanced could see. He launched himself at Angeal, his glowing blade smashing into a panicked block. He let go of the sword as soon as it hit and launched himself into the air to grab another.

The attack was too fast for Angeal to block, the blade slicing open his side in a spray of blood. The next hit was faster, the shortest blade of his set buried in Angeal’s back before the man could turn around. Another blade and he was falling to his knees.

Cloud picked up the largest blade, the centrepiece of his sword. The blue trails of energy were still visible, lighting a slowly fading trail from where he had gone from blade to blade. Calling again on the mako in his body, he prepared for the final flurry of attacks his limit break could perform.

Only to be stopped by a black blur putting itself between him and his target.

“Cloud…”


	42. Burden of Honour

**December 26 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“For me, Cloud?” Zack asked.

Cloud looked down at his blade, pressing against Zack’s stomach. Another step closer, a wrong twitch of his arm and he would impale his friend.

He froze, letting the blade drop from his still fingers and clatter to the cold tiles.

“Cloud?”

How could he say no?

Cloud turned back to Angeal, where the man was sprawled on the floor, the blade still sticking out from his back. “You won’t die,” he said, pulling his sword from his back with delicate indifference and replacing it with the most powerful Cure he could muster.

Angeal shook his head, coughing up blood as he struggled to get to his feet. “The puppy says no and you change your tune?”

Zack’s head popped up. “Whaddya mean, puppy?” he asked, incensed.

“Zack’s more important than you know,” Cloud replied.

Angeal bowed his head. “Yes, I suppose he is.”

“Nice, man.” Cloud started at the unexpected source of sound. Reno was kneeling next to Tseng, only just pocketing his phone. The Wutaian Turk was ignoring Reno, eyes fixed on Cloud with open interest.

Shit.

Cloud reassembled his discarded swords and slid the reunited blade back into his harness. Having now fought all of the trio in this time period, he was having the re-evaluate everything he knew. Evenly matched, neither Angeal or Genesis could hope to stand up to him… or Sephiroth. Yet it was closer than he’d first imagined. All it would take was being tired, injured, or the two of them deciding to attack at once.

Kneeling beside Denzel, Cloud reached for the materia in his armband to try to get a sense of his son’s injuries. The yellow materia glowed in his armband as he fed it power, leaving behind a pale yellow glow in his hand as he ran it over Denzel’s body.

Cracked ribs, partially healed. Possible damage to the spine. Whiplash. Blunt trauma to the face, broken nose and jaw, partially healed. Concussion.

Cloud sighed, pulling Denzel into a close, but careful, hug. “I was so worried,” he whispered to the boy. “You’ve gotta stop doing this.”

“Sorry, dad.” Denzel held on to Cloud’s knee. “Sorry.”

“I can’t always keep you safe.”

“I know.”

Drawing on his materia again, Cloud picked out a Curaga, focusing on the specific traumas his boy had suffered. He felt the shock and the magic flowed through him, but it had little effect. The materia had sealed as much of the injury as it could, but it would take time and old fashioned medicine to fully heal him. Magic couldn’t fix everything.

“He needs a medical evac,” Cloud said to Reno. They couldn’t lift him in the small helicopter, not with the stretcher he would need for his spine.

“Got it,” Reno said. “I’ll get back to the chopper and call it in.”

“What about the troopers?” Cloud asked.

“Just roughed up a bit, they’ll be fine.”

Zack turned to his former mentor. “They were fine when I came up here,” he said. “Who else is here? Is it Genesis?”

Angeal pulled himself up, clutching at his side and leaning on Zack for support. “Genesis is not here. He would rather chase after poetry. Only Hollander.”

“Huh, Hollander could kick some troopies butts?” Reno asked.

Tseng motioned at Cloud, speaking for the first time since his injury. “He wouldn’t be the first one.”

“Zack, take Reno and go after Hollander. I’ll keep an eye on Angeal.”

It took Zack a moment, hesitant to leave both his student and his mentor behind, but he still nodded and left anyway. As much as Cloud didn’t want Zack to go, he was still the best choice to bring Hollander in. He glanced over to where Angeal had been left, holding on to a railing for support, and felt the first pang of sympathy for the man since he had met him.

Cloud was bringing him back to Shinra, for imprisonment or worse.

How could he blame him for resisting?

 

* * *

 

Hollander had not gone quietly, of course. From the way Reno had described it, Zack had been ready to cut the bastard’s head off before some judicious application of the Turk’s electro-mag rod had left the scientist down for the count. He also wasn’t above admitting that he’d used it a couple of times even after he was down… just to be sure.

They’d come back at different times, Reno taking Tseng and the troopers once they’d managed to clear most of the snow that was pinning the chopper down to the ground. Cloud had waited with Zack for the medical evacuation vertiplane to take Denzel, Hollander and Angeal out.

The thought had stuck with Cloud as they approached Shinra tower — he was bringing them back to a company rotten to the core, a company that was guilty of horrific crimes against all of them — with the likely exception of Hollander, being one of those responsible.

When the Turks had come, he let them take Hollander, with the carefully worded instructions that he was to be unharmed — they were going to need his cooperation later. But he refused to let them take Angeal.

“But sir,” the Turk protested. “This is Turk jurisdiction.”

Cloud just stood in front of the burly SOLDIER — and dared anyone to tell him it looked ridiculous being defensive of a man twice his size — and crossed his arms, refusing to budge. “He’s my prisoner.”

“We will need to debrief him…”

“No.”

“We can call Veld to—”

“Tell him to bite me.”

Cloud caught Zack out of the corner of his eye trying to stifle some wide-eyed giggling, before schooling his expression and crossing his arms in solidarity. The Turks, neither of whom Cloud recognised but he was fairly sure weren’t rookies, just looked completely exasperated.

“You can interrogate him, but I’ll be there. Final offer,” Cloud said.

The Turks looked at each other and gave in. “Yes, sir.”

“You better be fucking worth it,” Cloud muttered as he led Angeal into the helipad’s executive elevator, Zack following closely behind him.

“Pardon?”

Cloud swiped his keycard and punched the floor button angrily with one finger. “I should be with my son, but I’ve gotta deal with you,” he said. “You better be fucking worth it.”

Angeal did not respond, though Zack nudged his mentor and grinned. “He’s an intimidating little guy when he’s angry, isn’t he?” he whispered.

“Shut up, Zack.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal the SOLDIER floor and Cloud grabbed Angeal by the arm, marching him through the corridors, much to the wide-eyed shock of the SOLDIERS still milling around the level in the hours of the early morning. Angeal let himself be led willingly, hanging his head like a man being dragged to his execution.

A few turns later and they were at the office of the Director of SOLDIER. Not even bothering to knock, Cloud opened the door and strode in to find himself interrupting a conversation between Lazard and Sephiroth.

“Professor, I received your message, but I was hav—” Lazard stopped mid-word as Angeal followed him into the room. Even Sephiroth’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Angeal,” Sephiroth greeted, nodding at the other First.

“Sephiroth.” Angeal kept his head ducked, refusing to look the other in the eye.

“Shouldn’t you be in medical?”

“I’d rather not. I can still stand.”

Cloud flinched. The tension in the air was thick enough that he’d need to materialise First Tsurugi again to cut it. Sephiroth was looking at Angeal with the nearest approximation to puppy eyes he’d ever seen on the man while Lazard was looking at the rest of them like a bomb had just been dropped in his lap.

“Now, I’m sure we can work something out…” Lazard started.

“Can we?” Angeal asked. “You of all people should know it’s too late for that. As soon as Hollander spills that you’ve been funding him…”

Cloud resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. Did Angeal just want to let everything burn down?

“Sephiroth, let’s keep this to ourselves, ok?” he said to the shocked face of Shinra’s prized First. It was weird seeing him have more expressions than smugness, disdain and anger. “Unless you’re secretly working against Shinra too.”

Sephiroth shook his head.

“Huh, you must be the only one in the company that isn’t,” Cloud said. He found out from Tifa that Rufus was probably funding Avalanche at this point, the Turks would go rogue sometime after Nibelheim and who knows what other schemes the executives of this time are plotting.

Sephiroth cocked an eyebrow at him. “What is your scheme against Shinra, then?”

Cloud grinned. “Getting rid of the head of the Science Department,” he said. “I thought you’d noticed.”

“Right,” Sephiroth said after a short huff. “But it is my duty to report such plots to the President.”

_Shit,_ Cloud thought. No, they needed Lazard, he was one of the few executives that could stand up to the Shinra, or had the motive to do so. Better that Lazard be in charge of SOLDIER than some unknown… or worse, Heidegger.

“Could you… just not?”

“No.”

Cloud sighed. “Do you really want _Heidegger_ in charge of SOLDIER?”

Sephiroth looked hesitant for a moment. “Absolutely not,” he said with conviction.

“Then don’t tell the President.”

“How long do you really think such a thing can remain a secret?”

“Long enough to work something out,” Cloud said, another weary sigh falling from his lips. “I’m washing my hands. You lot figure this shit out.”

“I appreciate your concern, professor,” Lazard said, eyeing him warily.

“I’m just tryin’ to make sure this doesn’t turn into a bigger disaster than it already has,” Cloud said. He gave Angeal an annoyed glare. “He’s your problem now.”

Before leaving the room completely, Cloud stopped in the doorway. “Angeal, try not to shit your nest any more than you already have, right?”

 

* * *

 

**December 27 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Hey, I’m here,” Cloud said, taking his son’s listless hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze, encouraged when he received such a firm grip in return. “Happy birthday, Denz.”

“Some birthday,” Denzel said, weariness seeping into every word. “Thanks for coming, dad.”

“I promised I’d keep you safe, right?”

Denzel gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, you save everyone, right?”

Cloud gave him a brief but unenthusiastic smile. Denzel always looked at him as a hero, even when… when he really shouldn’t. Even the promise to keep Denzel safe was a lie to make him feel better. Cloud should’ve known better than to make a promise he couldn’t keep.

“Sorry for getting in trouble again,” Denzel said once the silence had stretched out too long.

“It happens,” Cloud reassured him. “You haven’t exactly been picking on people your own size.”

“Hey, they picked me!” Denzel protested.

“You’re getting better though,” Cloud said. “You’ll be the one keeping me safe, soon.”

Denzel’s face lit up at that and he gave Cloud a wide smile, though it was gone just as quickly, like a dark thought crossed the boy’s mind and took all the humour out of him. “What’s wrong?”

“Cloud, you… trust me right?”

“Of course I do.”

“I… have something I have to talk to you about. About Zack.”


	43. Machinations

**December 28 th, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

Tseng looked over the gathered Turks. It was an unprecedented meeting, pulling even their deep cover operative out of her mission for this discussion. But then it was an unprecedented subject and now, it seemed, an unprecedented target.

“This about what happened up North?” Rod asked, settling into his seat.

Tseng gave him a nod, turning to glance at Reno on his right.

“You should start boss, you were there before I was,” Reno said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be there.”

Reno ducked his face, staring at the table as he scratched the back of his neck. A familiar gesture. “Yeah, well I kinda figured he’d go anyway, better that I went with him, y’know?”

“It wasn’t a criticism,” Tseng replied. After all, it had certainly worked out with their objectives. “It was an excellent decision.”

Reno gave an encouraged nod.

“Apart from some… discrepancies that we are all getting used to with Strife,” Tseng went on, “there was a major development. He brought Angeal back from Modeoheim.”

“We know that,” Nunchaku’s soft voice cut in. “We were there when he came in, refused to let us take him.”

“You don’t understand,” Tseng said, narrowing his eyes at the interruption. “ _Strife_ brought him in.”

Nunchaku ran his fingers through the blond curls that made up his fringe, brushing them out of his eyes. “I’m not getting it.”

“It wasn’t the SOLDIERs,” Reno said. “Well, Zack was fighting him off when we arrived, but then Cloud tagged in and beat the shit out of Hewley.”

Tseng leaned back as a wave of murmurs and speculation washed over the table. He looked over to Veld. Their director had yet to say anything, taking in the information with his usual stony faced silence.

He only got a nod back in response, urging him to continue on.

“Even though Angeal was weakened for the fight, we can only assume that Strife is a very competent warrior. I have discussed this with the President and he is extremely concerned.”

_I dislike my executives having power I can’t rescind. Put every available Turk on discovering Strife’s background. We need a plan — and a contingency. Send Rufus to Costa Del Sol._

“Little fella doesn’t look it, does he?” Shotgun said, leaning back and stretching in her chair.

“I would daresay being underestimated is how he got as far as he has,” Tseng replied. “That ends now. We will set up a permanent detail, he is to be followed at all times outside the building. If there is any trouble, your orders are not to resist. Call for backup and we will dispatch Sephiroth.”

“Calling in the big guns, huh?” Nunchaku said with a low whistle.

“The President has made sure Sephiroth will be available for as long as needed.”

“Strife has been getting close to Sephiroth,” Rude commented.

Tseng eyed Rude. The constant interruptions were wearing on his nerves  but as usual, whenever the big man said anything, it was worth listening to. It was mainly based on hearsay, but—

“You’ve all heard the rumour goin’ round?” Reno said, his grin only widening when Tseng levelled the full weight of his glare on him. Of _course_ they had all heard the rumours. “Well, I got the _video_.”

“Gross, Reno,” Nunchaku said, miming sticking his finger down his throat and gagging. Reno merely gave him a wink and sashayed towards the lectern in the corner of the conference room. He pulled a tape from his pocket and slid it in.

Warily, all eyes in the room turned to the screen. It was grainy and hard to make out details, as security footage usually was. But what was on the screen was clear. Sephiroth and Cloud Strife facing off in one of the training rooms, Sephiroth holding Masamune and Strife holding a massive blade that held more than a passing resemblance to Hewley’s Buster Sword. They stood for a few moments, sizing each other up before Strife went on the offensive. It was too fast for the low quality camera to capture anything more than blurs, still frames only coming now and again when they locked blades. The whole room was still and silent, every single Turk glued to the screen when the blurring stopped and Sephiroth was falling under the weight of Strife’s sword, Masamune falling from his grasp. The tape paused there, Shinra’s prized SOLDIER sprawled face down on the floor.

“Holy shit.”

“Fuck me sideways.”

“That’s it, we’re fucked. We’re totally fucked.”

Veld leaned forward and all discussion ceased, an ominous hush falling over the room. “This does not change our mission,” he said after a long pause. “Merely our tactics.”

“Indeed,” Tseng agreed. “So far Strife has shown no sign of going against Shinra, but the President has chosen to be cautious and I believe that is wise.”

Elena nodded along solemnly. “He has been concerned about things getting to the Turks lately.”

Tseng raised an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“If it’s anything to do with the research we’ve been digging up, he’ll usually give me instructions on avoiding the Turks, er, us, finding out.”

Reno snorted. “That little shit.”

Tseng turned to his second. “What is it, Reno?”

“He knows you’re a Turk,” Reno said. “He’s been _playing_ us.”

“Wh- what makes you say that? He trusts me!”

“Yeah, he trusted ya pretty quick for a secretary he never met before. I just thought it was ‘cause… oh, _fuck_.”

He would’ve found it amusing in any other circumstances, to see Reno caught so far off guard. But this was hardly the time. “He’s been playing you, hasn’t he?”

“No… maybe. I don’t think so?” Reno scratched the back of his head and let out a short huff. “Aw man, now I feel like I’ve gotta second guess everything he told me.”

“We will need to avoid such carelessness going forward,” Veld said. “Tseng, please distribute the assignments.”

 

* * *

 

“Are these really necessary?” Hollander asked, holding up his cuffed wrists.

“No,” Rude replied.

“Then take them off!”

“No.”

Cloud snorted as he took a seat opposite Hollander, taking in the man’s pale skin, red rimmed eyes and sunken face. His health hadn’t fared well, either on the run or in captivity. They were in the science labs, most of his research division showing up to assist with the questioning. The Turks had reluctantly agreed to release him from their custody; the trip down to their floor had just confirmed that his secret was out, each stare he received filled with a mix of wariness and abject fear.

Still, it was freeing in a way to have it out in the open like that. He’d ditched the contacts as soon as he could duck into a bathroom, his eyes watering in joy at being released from their uncomfortable, months long confinement.

Hadn’t ditched the suit just yet and wandering around with First Tsurugi strapped to his back would probably cause more trouble than it was worth, but hey. Baby steps.

“They put one of Hojo’s experiments in charge of the department?” Hollander said, sneering at Cloud. “Ha! The idiot must be spinning in his grave!”

What was it with these scientists and their constant need to gloat, even with swords hanging figuratively and literally over them? “Where is Jenova?” he asked, cutting straight to the chase.

“Ah, of course. Always the apple of the Science Department’s eye.”

Cloud shook his head. “No, the cuckoo’s egg.”

“Huh? Was that supposed to be a joke, boy?” Hollander asked, frowning back at him. Cloud returned the frown. Did he really not know what she was?

“Because that’s the way she… y’know what, nevermind,” he said, ducking his face away from Hollander. If he was anything like Hojo, then maybe picking at his ego would be the best way to get him to spill… “I’m supposed to be asking the questions. If you don’t know, I’m not gonna tell you.”

Hollander leaned back against the table and attempted to fold his arms, aborting the motion halfway through when the forgotten handcuffs got in the way. He settled for clasping them in front of himself. “Very well, then.”

Damn. Cloud felt very much like he’d pulled in his line only to find the bait cleanly torn from the hook. “Where is she?”

“If you want something from me, ‘professor’, you will need to offer something in return,” Hollander said, glaring him down without a hint of hesitance.

Cloud turned to Rude. “Is there anything we can offer?” he asked. It’s not like he could even bluff that he’d beat or torture the man, it was something that was never in his nature to begin with.

Rude shook his head. “It’s up to the President.”

“Then, I guess,” Cloud started, scratching the back of his head. “I’ll try to convince him to go easy on you?”

“Not good enough.”

“If you are unsuccessful, sir,” Rude said softly. “The Turks are willing to take over.”

Hollander paled, an impressive feat for a man who looked as sickly as he did. “Then… if you promise to convince him, that’ll have to do.”

Cloud gave him a nod. “So, Jenova…”

“I assumed you had it,” Hollander said. “I sent Genesis to find her, before he ran off. He said you got there before he did.”

“If Genesis doesn’t have it, then—”

“Unless you’re suggesting it walked out of the reactor by itself, then someone else has it.”

Cloud frowned. “It’s not impossible.”

Hollander barked out a mocking laugh. “Jenova isn’t sentient. Well, the Ancient that housed the virus might have been once, but she is long dead. Jenova is merely the virus that she had within her.”

“Just like Hojo…” Cloud muttered. “You’re so sure about everything, even when you’re wrong.”

“Tell me how I am wrong then, oh wise scientist of scientists,” Hollander said, dipping forth in a sarcastic bow. “Tell me then, what proof do you have of this sentience that eluded us for decades?”

“She spoke to me,” Cloud said softly, his steely gaze never wavering through Hollander’s theatrics. “Only when she was awake and I was close to her main body, but I heard her.”

Hollander stiffened as the words fell, standing up straight to met Cloud’s gaze and stare right back down at him. “Reunion theory,” he breathed. “The rat bastard actually… but no, why haven’t I felt…”

“Only people with Jenova’s cells in…” Cloud trailed off, shaking his head. His eyes flicked back to Hollander as he realised what he said. “Oh, no. Please tell me you weren’t _that_ stupid.”

“It was the only way to—”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Cloud said, cutting him off. “What a mess. You an’ Hojo. Two biggest idiots on the Planet.”

“It was necessary to—”

“Bet it wasn’t. Did it get you any closer to finding a cure.”

“Genesis can’t be cured,” Hollander said, waving one hand dismissively. The effect was rather ruined by the other limp hand it was attached to. “It is a waste of time. No, Angeal is the perfect creation. He will—”

Cloud knew a mad scientist rant when he heard one and was in no mood to let this one work up any steam. Grabbing a pen from the table, he flicked it with perfect accuracy at Hollander’s face, bouncing it off his forehead and interrupting his rambling mid sentence.

“So, Angeal isn’t degrading and you don’t know how to help Genesis,” Cloud said. He leaned forward in his chair and caught Hollander’s eyes, lowering his voice. “What you’re saying is: you’re useless.”

Hollander didn’t take the implied threat very well. “No,” he said desperately. “You need me, Angeal, he…” He trailed off and Cloud gave him a short nod, giving him some time to regain his composure and continue. “He’s been… not quite himself. Anger, obsession, it’s like he’s not entirely himself.”

“That is why you injected yourself?” Cloud asked.

“I thought if I could replicate it, I could find out what was going on. If I could tap into the link the cells provides…”

“I haven’t felt it,” Cloud said, shaking his head.

“It’s subtle. I didn’t notice it myself, but once I played back recordings… it was there. Not to the extent of Angeal, but still there.”

Cloud shook his head, more out of denial than disbelief. But it couldn’t be denied, not just with the behaviour of Angeal, but Denzel and maybe even himself. There was probably even a rise in the number of SOLDIERs getting into fights. Something was affecting them.

“Given that Angeal is receiving the strongest effect and their close genetics,” Hollander said, “I would hypothesise that Genesis is the cause, whether he is aware of it or not.”


	44. New Year's Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! We’re finally at New Year’s Eve - the calm before the storm! I’ve been waiting to get to this for ages - it’s long and there's lots of fluff and fun stuff (they all need a break), I had to spread it over a lot of chapters, but I hope it’s worth it. Hold on to your butts!

**December 31 st, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“First Class SOLDIER Zack Fair.” Zack grabbed the hilt of the Buster Sword over his shoulder and struck a pose, admiring his heroic stance in the dull reflection of his locker. “It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“You are such a dork,” Denzel mumbled, his head buried in his hands as Zack preened.

No, not preened. Posed. That’s what heroes did, they posed dramatically once they saved the day. And he had! He stopped Cloud from killing Angeal and brought his mentor back to Shinra. Without anyone dying! Well, without anyone else dying.

“We should go out to celebrate!” he said, ignoring his student’s comment. Oh! He had to get a uniform. Nice and black, it would look so good! Maybe it’d even make Cloud’s head turn…

“We’re already going out. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Yes!” Zack pumped his fist, then reached up and pulled his old blue jumper over his head. “Everyone’s gonna be there! This is gonna be a night to remember, Mouse.”

“Za- Zack!”

“What?” Zack turned, arms still trapped by the sleeveless holes of his top. He cocked his head at his student… why was he turning so red?

“Why are you getting undressed again?”

“Wha-? Oh. I need to get my new uniform!”

“Shouldn’t you pick it up _before_ taking your clothes off?”

“Right.” Zack grinned, pulling the top back over his head. “Good thinking!”

Denzel shook his head at him. “I swear, Zack…”

“Hey,” he said, spinning around and putting his hands on his hips. Couldn’t quite manage to glare at Denzel, though, not with the grin threatening to split his cheeks open. “Who’s the student here, huh?”

Denzel grinned back and muttered, “sometimes I wonder.”

Zack huffed and spun on his heel, striding out of the locker room with what he hoped looked like heroic purpose and not just strutting. His grin almost came back when he heard, on cue, Denzel jumping to his feet and following behind him.

The kid was good like that. If he had to admit it, Denzel was the perfect student. He may not have been the most talented in his class, but he was enthusiastic and loyal — not to mention that weird worldliness that popped up now and again, catching him off guard. They fought so well as a team, Zack taking the lead and Denzel providing support, that his own training scores had _doubled_ since he took the kid on as a student. Now they just needed to get Denzel promoted to Second Class and they’d be a match for anyone except Sephiroth — and Cloud, come to think of it.

The thought gave him an extra bounce in his step as they made their way to the requisitions room to pick up Zack’s new uniform. He switched clothes then and there, much to his student’s mortification. 

“In public? Really?”

Zack clasped his belt together and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. “Totally worth it,” he said, resting his hands on his hips and giving his student a good look at his new uniform. Worth it, both for being able to wear the uniform he had dreamed of for so long and for the adorable reaction Denzel had when being teased. The kid was such a blushing prude sometimes!

“Come on,” Zack said, grabbing his pauldrons. “We need to gather the squad!”

 

* * *

 

The squad, as it turned out, was Essai and Sebastian, as well as Josef, Gordon and Ricard, the rest of Denzel’s Third Class squad. Add to that Zack’s old Second Class squad, his old Third Class squad, his friends who had joined the army and people he had just met along the way. Even Hyne and Alric from their most recent mission were following the group, looking somewhat bewildered as to why they were there at all.

“Are we going to Goblin Bar again?” Denzel asked when they filed out of the train, the stale air and dim light immediately telling him they had entered the slums.

“Nah,” Zack replied. “There’s a cool new place Josef was talking about, just opened.”

“It wasn’t the bar he couldn’t shut up about,” Gordon piped up from the back of the group. “It was the waitress!”

“You wait until you see her. Bet you couldn’t even say two words to her.”

“Oh yeah? I bet—”

Denzel tuned them out. At least it was better than most of the conversations they had when the SOLDIERs were gathered in a group. He slowed down his walk, letting the others pass him until he had dropped to the back of the group.

“How are you guys doing?” He asked the two uncomfortable troopers.

“Uh, good.”

“Yeah, good,” Hyne added. “We just weren’t expecting…”

“To be dragged along by SOLDIERs?” Denzel finished for her. “It’s Zack mostly, I don’t think it occurs to him. You can sneak off if you don’t want to be here.”

“No, it’s not that, sir,” Alric said. Denzel shook his head? Sir? They were both easily a couple of years older than him! “It’s just… I feel out of place.”

“Well,” Denzel said with the beginnings of a grin. The rest of the group shuffled up and steps into the bar and he led the way with the two troopers. “I know just how to fix that. I’ll get your first round.”

He ushered them into a booth near the corner of the bar as the others spread out, taking most of the available seats. The bar was nearly deserted when they arrived and the few locals present seemed to recognise the group for what it was and decided another establishment would be preferable for the night.

“Hey Zack,” Denzel called out. “Get a round for our table, on me!”

Essai dropped down into the seat next to him, forcing him to shuffle over to make room. “You’re bossing Seconds around now, huh?”

Denzel grinned. “Firsts, you mean?”

“What? No way!” Essai leaned over the out of the booth, looking around for Zack. “Huh… I’ll congratulate him once they’ve stopped trying to harass the barmaid.”

Hyne’s brows furrowed and she bit her lip. Alric glanced over at her and shrunk back into his seat, his eyes darting between the SOLDIERs at the table.

“Zack wouldn’t let them…” Denzel began, before a loud thump and yell of pain cut through the chattering air.

“More like the barmaid wouldn’t let ‘em,” Essai said as the others tried to crane their necks over the booth. Denzel just leaned back in his seat. Gods, it was so embarrassing being out with them sometimes, especially when alcohol was involved. For all that Zack could act like an overexcited child sometimes, at least his mentor had a sense of honour and decorum and, unlike the others, knew when it was appropriate to let loose and when it was not.

Sometimes it was easy to forget his mentor was barely a teenager, until he was surrounded by those his age. 

Zack pushed Gordon into the booth, Hyne shuffling over with a wry look of satisfaction on her face. His squadmate was leaning his head back, holding a bloody napkin to his face as Zack mothered over him.

“What were you even thinking, you idiot? I’d have hit you myself if she didn’t do it for me!”

Denzel snickered. Well, it was a certain kind of mothering. “What did he do?” he asked.

“I wab jubt drying ta be-”

“He tried to grope our hostess,” Zack said. “Trying to get us all kicked out, I swear.”

“It wabn’t-!”

“Whatever!” Zack huffed, throwing his hands up in the air. “Doesn’t matter what you thought, matters what you did.”

“Don’t lean your head back,” Denzel offered.

“Whabt?”

“It just makes blood go down your throat, which isn’t that great for you. Lean forward and pinch your nose, it’ll help clot faster.”

Gordon nodded slowly, leaning his head forward and letting out a muffled whimper as he pinched his nose.

“Learn that one from your dad, Mouse?” Zack asked.

“Who is your dad?” Alric asked a little timidly. Denzel shot him a glance mid-nod and the trooper flushed. “Just… that’s the second time I’ve heard about it.”

“You haven’t heard?” Essai asked. “His dad’s Professor Strife, the head of the Science Department.”

“Isn’t he the guy banging Sephiroth?”

“ _What?!”_ Denzel was just glad their drinks hadn’t arrived, otherwise there would be a high chance that the rest of the table would be wearing his. He glanced over at Zack, who was looking as amused as he felt mortified. 

“Er, that’s the rumour, right?” Essai offered.

“Geez, you guys,” Denzel said, trying to calm the flush from his face.

“This was about the training room thing, right?” Zack asked, scratching the back of his neck. “They were sparring, not… you know.”

“Your dad _spars_ with _Sephiroth_?”

“Bet he won, too,” Denzel said with a small hint of pride.

“Heh, actually,” Zack said with a small grin. “Cloud said Sephiroth won, Sephiroth said Cloud won. It was kinda cute.”

“That’s not gonna help rumours,” Hyne added with the hint of a blush.

“Ok, official new SOLDIER rule,” Denzel said. “All talk of my dad’s sex life is banned.”

“Hey, who said you could make rules, newbie?” Essai asked, ruffling Denzel’s hair.

“I’ll pull strings if I have to,” Denzel muttered, swatting Essai’s hand away and giving the other boy a cold glare.

It was just that moment that the barmaid decided to make an appearance. “Here’s your drinks, boys, but lemme warn ya, if anyone tries that again you’re all out on yer arses, right?”

Denzel dramatically flung his arms onto the table, burying his head deep into his elbows. “ _Oh my fucking gods_ ,” he moaned despondently into the wood.

“Denzel! Language!”

He lifted his head from the table. “Hi mom,” he said to Tifa with a sheepish smile.

“Hey buddy,” she said, leaning over to ruffle his hair, the brightest smile lit all over her face. He glanced at the other occupants of the table while batting her hands away. Zack looked just about ready to explode with laughter, while the rest of them were just gaping in open-mouthed surprise. “Your friends can stick around, just make sure they behave, ok?”

“We’re sorry about this idiot here, ma’am,” Zack offered, sticking his thumb out at the still whimpering Gordon.

She folded her arms over her chest. “It caught me by surprise, honestly. It’s been a while since anyone’s been stupid enough to do that.”

Denzel quickly grabbed one of the beers from the tray that Tifa had lain on the table, hopeful at least to be able to hide his embarrassment behind the action of drinking. “Tifa, this is Zack,” he introduced before bringing the glass to his lips.

Apparently Zack was as unprepared as he was for Tifa to grab the older SOLDIER in a tight hug. His somewhat enhanced hearing could just make out the words “thank you” whispered into Zack’s ear.

“For what?” Zack whispered back.

“For taking care of my boys,” Tifa replied before releasing the hug. No one seemed capable of saying anything in that moment. She turned and left to take care of the other customers.

“Well, uh…” Zack said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Thab’s so nob fair,” Gordon whined.

“Dude!” Zack hissed, smacking the back of Gordon’s head. Perhaps a bit of a hasty move, as blood splattered on the table in front of him. “Shut up, that’s Denzel’s mum!”

“So your dad matches Sephiroth and your mom beats up SOLDIERs,” Essai said with an amused smirk.

“Ugh… I know,” Denzel bemoaned, nursing his glass of beer. It was the absolute worst thing possible for any teenager. “My parents are cooler than me. Just… shut up, already.”


	45. New Year's Eve: Secrets

**December 31 st, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“This should not reach Shinra’s ears.”

Cloud turned to look at Sephiroth with a smile on his lips. “Quite the rebel, now,” he teased, giving his shoulder a friendly tap with his fist. He couldn’t help it, there was just something so _pleasing_ about seeing this side of Sephiroth coming out. No longer willing to follow every insipid order he received, Sephiroth was finally standing up for himself. It was so _human_ it made Cloud’s heart leap.

Angeal laughed behind them. “The world’s gone mad, huh?”

Cloud resisted the urge to scowl. No, he could be civil for this. Genesis had only agreed to meet with them on the condition that Angeal was unharmed and present, and given the opportunity that afforded he would bite his tongue. Not with the amount of work it had taken to get Angeal out of Shinra custody for the night.

“This bar of yours,” Sephiroth said with a too-knowing smugness. “It’s not far, is it?”

“No,” Cloud said, giving Sephiroth a slight side-eye. Did he know something? “Not far now.”

The streets were quiet for the slums, even for the evening. The stalls had packed up early and there were no children to be seen in the streets. The only signs of life came from the bars and restaurants dotted through the makeshift streets.

Seventh Heaven was far more loud and raucous than he had ever seen before, though that should have been expected on New Year’s Eve. At least the noise and crowds might give them some measure of anonymity. Cloud pushed open the saloon doors, the others following close behind him, only for the bar to fall into a dead, hushed silence.

“So, you picked the bar where SOLDIER were celebrating for the night? How cunning,” Angeal said.

“Shut up,” Cloud replied, making for one of the few empty booths. The chattering picked up as the others sat down with him, though quieter than before and with the unmistakeable air that the talk had suddenly shifted to them. “This was a bad night to do this.”

“You insisted it was as soon as possible,” Sephiroth stated.

Cloud folded his arms. “I guess,” he admitted. “It’ll probably be a while before Genesis turns up, what do you drink?”

“Icicle Pale Ale for me,” Angeal said.

“I do not,” Sephiroth said.

“IPAs all round it is,” Cloud said, ducking off behind the bar and returning with three bottles.

“Traditionally you’re supposed to pay for that,” Angeal commented.

“I own a third,” Cloud said with a shrug, popping the caps off the bottles. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him. “At least, I think I still do.” He handed the bottles around.

“I don’t drink,” Sephiroth said.

“Look, if you really don’t like alcohol, that’s fine, I’ll get you a juice or something,” Cloud said. “But if this is some sort of ‘it slows your reflexes in battle’ bullshit, I’m gonna make you buttchug the whole damn thing.”

Angeal had trouble looking him in the eye after that, but at least Sephiroth took a hesitant swig of the beer, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing it down.

“It tastes… interesting,” he said.

“A bit savoury, right?” Cloud added. “I like it after all the sugary stuff you get in ShinRa. I never had a sweet palate.”

Sephiroth nodded and took another taste of the beer. “I agree.”

“You two are certainly friendly,” Angeal noted, leaning back in the corner of the booth and draining his own bottle.

“What’s your problem, Angeal?” Cloud snapped back. The snide comments, the saltiness, the _anger_ were just too much to put up with. It was nothing like the Angeal that had been described to him so many times but, well, it was all _he_ had seen.

Angeal raised his hands in what Cloud hoped was a gesture of peace. “It’s not that… well, it is. The lies, the secrets, everything about ShinRa,” he said. “I’ve had enough. I was ready to end it, in Modeoheim.”

Sephiroth dropped his bottle, only Cloud’s quick reflexes saving it from spilling all over the table. “You… were… _what_?”

“What? Would you have shed a tear over my death?”

“I already had,” Sephiroth said. “Men cry not for themselves, but for their comrades.”

Cloud stared in stunned wonder. Sephiroth of all people… it was not just that he had cried over the loss of his friends, but that he was freely admitting he had done so. Angeal was looking as shocked as he felt, gaping near open-mouthed at Sephiroth.

“After we fought in Sector Five,” Sephiroth went on after another swig of beer, “I… lost hope that you would return.”

Cloud leaned back and let it all sink in. The fact that Sephiroth had _feelings_ shouldn’t have come as so much of a shock, but there he was, sharing his insecurities with Cloud like they were _friends_.

“I’m back now, aren’t I?”

Sephiroth shook his head with a sad sigh. “Instead of choosing to, you were forced. You never even apologised for leaving in the first place.”

Angeal bowed his head. “Because… it seemed so important at the time and yet… looking back… I can’t believe why.”

“Why?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” Angeal said. “What I found in that lab… Project G and Project S. I thought that if you found out… well, I didn’t want to know.”

“Projects G… and S,” Sephiroth breathed.

“Yes. Genesis and Sephiroth. I looked… but I couldn’t find the research on Project A… but, I know it’s there somewhere.”

Cloud shook his head. “There is no Project A.” He tensed as he felt both stares firmly fixed on him. “It wasn’t Project Genesis, it was Project Gillian.”

“My mother…” Angeal breathed.

“How much do you know of these projects?” Sephiroth asked, his intense gaze never wavering from Cloud.

“Not much,” Cloud admitted. “Most of the background, but none of the details, really. That’s what I was trying to get from the labs. Nothing that’s helped with a cure for Genesis.”

“And what of a cure for me?” Angeal asked.

“You’re not degrading,” Cloud replied.

“What?”

“You, me and Sephiroth, our genes are stable. It’s only Genesis who’s degrading.”

“That is the first you have mentioned your own past involvement in these projects,” Sephiroth murmured.

“Didn’t care to,” Cloud explained. “Still don’t.”

“How much are you planning on keeping from us?”

“As much as necessary.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t exactly the best New Year’s party Denzel could have hoped for. It was supposed to be a great night out with his mentor and his new friends, but… it seemed like all anyone could talk about was his parents. Again.

He’d been used to growing up under their shadow, after all Cloud and Tifa had brought down Sephiroth and been a huge part in saving the world. There was no way of hiding from the reverence the citizens of Edge, even the citizens around the world, gave them. But they still gave them their space, and their peace, and as much as possible tried to treat them as just normal people. Maybe it was out of respect, maybe it was out of a misguided fear of history — to many, the story was all about a SOLDIER treated like a god who thought he could become one, nearly destroying the world in the process.

But in this era of fanclubs and hero worship, such restraint was nowhere to be found, even amongst SOLDIER. He’d already shot down more wild theories than he could count and with Cloud in a hushed and heated discussion in the corner with two of the legendary Firsts, the rumours were flying thicker than ever.

He was grateful for Zack’s rescue then, when his mentor whisked him away to a newly opened up booth, barely giving him time to grab their nearly full drinks before being hauled across the room.

“Pretty nuts, huh?” Zack said as they slid into the seats.

Denzel just nodded numbly, putting the drinks down on the table.

“Eh, Shinra runs on gossip I guess; my buddy finds it pretty handy. How’re you doing?”

“I…” Denzel began, only to come to a halt when his heart began hammering in his chest. Was this the right time to say anything… would any time be right?

“What’s wrong, Mouse?” Zack asked, his big blue eyes imploring him from across the table.

“I’ve… just got something I have to say.”

Zack didn’t say anything for once, just nodded patiently.

“I like you, Zack.”

“I like you too, bud- heh…” Zack trailed off, scratching the spikes at the back of his head. “Right, that’s not gonna fly. I know what you mean, really.”

“You do?” Denzel’s heart was running on hope right now, and if it wasn’t for that small sliver he felt like it would just stop entirely.

“Yeah, you’re great, Denzel, it’s just that…”

Oh. _Oh._ At least his heart still felt like beating. That was something, right?

“Gods, there’s nothing I can say that’s not gonna make me sound like a hypocrite, is there?”

Denzel looked up at him, furiously blinking back the tears that were threatening to well up. “Zack?”

“You’re a great kid, Denzel,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I know you’ll find someone. You’re good looking, you’ve got a great body.” Zack started counting them off on his fingers. “You’ll be a great SOLDIER someday… pretty damn soon, I know it. You’ve got a great heart, and it’s really fun being around you. It’s just…”

“Just…” Denzel flushed, his eyes dropping back down to the table. It felt so good to have Zack compliment him like that, not just as a SOLDIER but as a person, even if it was as he was letting him down gently. “It’s ok, Zack. It’s just a crush. I’ll be ok.”

“You’re even taking this way better than me,” Zack said with a shaky laugh. “It’s just… I don’t have anything to follow that up with.”

Denzel looked up at him curiously. It was a relief to have this over with, even if it wasn’t in the way he had been hoping for. All he needed now was to make sure that their friendship would be alright and… he could deal with the rest. It was a silly feeling maybe, but… better to have it out in the open rather than eating away at him, right?

“I guess… it just took me by surprise, I didn’t think… but… I mean, why not, right?”

“What?”

“I mean, you couldn’t be my student anymore, but… that’s not a big deal. You’ll be Second Class soon, we can still work together.”

Denzel’s brain had shut down completely from what he was hearing. Yes? Was… was Zack actually saying _yes_?

“So, Denzel,” Zack said, showing off his most charming grin. “You wanna go out for dinner sometime?”


	46. New Year's Eve: Coming Out

**December 31 st, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“You know,” Angeal said, slurring his words slightly. He slid his empty bottle to the middle of the table, where quite an impressive collection was waiting to be cleared. “I’ve been hearing a rumour that you two were, well…” he coughed and knocked his fist twice on the table.

Cloud took one look at Sephiroth’s bewildered expression and covered his face with his hands. “Shiva’s fucking tits,” he bemoaned in one drawn out, exasperated groan as he slid down in his seat. “When will everyone stop dragging me into their bullshit love lives?”

“Well, it appears that I arrived at the _perfect_ time.”

Cloud spread his hands, peering out at the newcomer through his fingers. Not that it was necessary, that smug drawl could be identified from space.

“Genesis,” Cloud said, sitting up and shuffling over as the man took a seat next to him. “We have a lot to talk about.”

“Yes, do continue,” Genesis said, amusement pouring into every word. “I want to hear more of this…” he tapped twice on the table. “Did Sephiroth finally get himself a piece of ass?”

“I’m not a piece of ass,” Cloud muttered. The alcohol made it far too easy to flush in the crowded heat of the bar; he was sure his face was embarrassingly red.

“Cloud and I have not had sex,” Sephiroth said, far too matter of factly than the situation called for. “I believe that rumour started after we were seen leaving a sparring match.”

“Now that’s even more interesting,” Genesis purred. Angeal too seemed drawn in by that, leaning closer to the table. “Tell me, how did that go?”

“It was a draw,” Cloud answered, wondering if he should go back to hiding behind his hands when Tifa came around with a fresh round and began gathering up the empty bottles. Genesis jumped on the opportunity to put an order for wine in.

“Cloud was holding back,” Sephiroth retorted.

Genesis leaned his head back and laughed. “Oh, how interesting,” he crowed.

“Shouldn’t we be talking about…” Cloud trailed off. _Anything but this?_

“Oh, but it seems like everyone knows my secrets as of late,” Genesis said, his voice light yet dripping with sarcasm. “I think it’d be far more interesting to pry some out of Sephiroth’s boytoy.”

“Keep that up,” Cloud growled, trying to drown out Tifa’s badly stifled giggles, “I’ll throw you out another window.”

“I do not understand these rumours,” Sephiroth said, swirling his beer in the bottle thoughtfully. “Cloud has a son. Surely his relationship with the mother would preclude any other involvement.”

Gods, as if Genesis couldn’t look any more smug. “Yes, how about ‘the mother,’ as Sephiroth so delicately put it?”

“I’m right here,” Tifa said, hauling up the tray of empties. “We’re not in a relationship. You can…” she too knocked twice on the table, “him all you like.”

“Gee, thanks Teef,” Cloud grumbled.

“You’re welcome,” she said cheerily as she walked away. “Have fun, boys!”

“So, that was the mother of your child? Quite a woman,” Genesis said.

Cloud narrowed his eyes. Just what was this jerk getting at? “Tifa,” he said. “Her name is Tifa. And yes, that… was definitely Tifa, alright.”

“Does she try to set you up with men often?” Angeal asked, amusement lacing his voice.

“No, she just likes fucking with me. I don’t _do_ dating.”

Cloud snatched another beer from the centre of the table and necked a good portion of the bottle in one go. The drunker he was, the easier it would be… gods, the sacrifices he made to save the world. It was mortifying, it was all at his expense… but, at least he had all three of them at the same table and with no stabbing of any kind.

It was a New Year’s miracle. If that’s what it took to keep them talking, then he’d just have to bear it.

“You don’t… do dating?” Sephiroth asked. There was a hint of uncertainty in his voice, and… something else. Cloud glanced at his face, trying to work out the inscrutable expression, but he dropped his eyes and looked away.

“I don’t feel romantic attraction,” Cloud said as plainly and as calmly as he could manage, though his heart was threatening to beat right out of his chest. He wasn’t ashamed of it, didn’t hide it, but still couldn’t quell the nervousness that would well up every time he had to explain it.

“Is it because of the enhancements?” Sephiroth asked, halting and unable to look him in the eye.

That… was the first reason he didn’t like to talk to about it. “I’m not _broken_ ,” he growled, harsh enough that Genesis, who had been slowly inching closer to him over the course of the conversation, shuffled back. “And if any of you idiots try to ‘fix’ me, I’ll break _you_.”

“I apologise,” Sephiroth said, ducking his head. “But I had assumed that was why I…”

Oh. _Oh_. Cloud looked up at him, a new understanding dawning in his eyes. “Well, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. It doesn’t matter, it just _is_. It’s not like we’d be the only ones.”

“Not… the only ones?”

Cloud nodded. “Being rare doesn’t mean it’s not normal, ya know.”

“Asexual,” Angeal added, nodding along with them. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it.”

“Aromantic,” Cloud corrected. “You can be one without the other.”

Genesis snorted. “Finding out you’re both a pair of monks is possibly the _least_ interesting place this conversation could have gone.”

Cloud sighed at Genesis, making sure to keep his eyes fixed on Sephiroth. Finding out there were others like you… well, it was important to anyone, but _especially_ important to Sephiroth, the man who had been held on a pedestal his entire life, placed so far apart from others that it led to his descent into madness. The hints on his face didn’t change, however, remaining a mix of uncertainty and embarrassment.

“Maybe we should get down to business, then,” Angeal said.

“Yes, Angeal, perhaps you can tell us all what you have been hiding,” Genesis said, leaning in to the table and fixing the other SOLDIER with a hard stare.

Angeal took the accusation in stride, calmly taking another drink. “I’ve begun to realise,” he said slowly, fixing Cloud with a steady glare. “That the secrets I found weren’t so secret after all.”

“We have all been experimented on from a very early age,” Sephiroth said without a hint of hesitance or emotion in his voice. “Though I do not know if that also holds true for Cloud.”

Cloud found all eyes on the table turning to him. “What does it matter?” he asked, his stomach sinking.

“Because it’s _fair_ ,” Genesis hissed. “As fascinating as hearing about your lack of sex life is, it doesn’t come close to how we have been _forcibly_ opened up before you. Either you are with us, and as open as we are, or you are another outsider looking in.”

Cloud sighed, but he already knew he was going to give in. “You’re asking a lot.”

“No more than we have given,” was the only reply Genesis gave. He looked at each of them, waiting patiently for him to speak, but… understanding in their own way. They knew how hard this was to bare and would wait as long as he needed.

“I was sixteen,” he said slowly, clasping his hands in his lap to stop the trembling. It didn’t help. “It was in Nibelheim, my hometown. Hojo took me to the lab there…” He let out a shaky breath. “He was trying to recreate Sephiroth. Without having to wait twenty years I guess. I was in there for five before… we escaped.”

“We?” Angeal asked. Cloud snapped his coldest glare on him.

“Don’t. Ask.”

Angeal put his hands up slowly, palms out in a calming gesture. “Sorry,” Cloud whispered. “I was suffering mako poisoning. He broke us out, but he… didn’t make it. I’m sorry… I still can’t talk about it.”

Cloud swallowed the guilt of using Zack like that, using his grief and the memory of his saviour to lie and mislead them. He couldn’t tell them about Zack, but not because it was too painful to bear.

“It is alright,” Sephiroth said soothingly. “Those are not the details we needed.”

“Makes sense though,” Genesis grumbled.

“Not to any sane minds,” Angeal added.

“No, but… why have one Sephiroth when you can have an army? It has Shinra all over it.”

“Why ruin one life when you can ruin everyone’s?” Angeal said, to humourless snorts from both Genesis and Cloud. Sephiroth just sighed.

“That is the past, however,” Genesis said. “Important perhaps, but what I _need_ to know is the future. Where do we go from here?”

“Hollander admitted he couldn’t cure the degradation,” Cloud said.

“Didn’t want to try, more like it,” Genesis spat. “All he wanted was revenge, bloodshed for a petty feud between insecure scientists.”

“The clones…” It came back to him all in a rush. Genesis copies, they had been everywhere. SOLDIERs that had deserted alongside him, made into his image and under his control.

Genesis’ eyes met his. “You know about the clones?”

He broke the gaze and nodded, not willing to give away how he could have known.

“It was tempting, what Hollander offered,” Genesis said. “Revenge on Shinra, an army to force Hojo to hand over the cure. But… Hojo died, and revenge was not enough. Not to sacrifice all the people who followed me.”

“You turned it down?” Cloud asked. He’d assumed that things would have been the same, that Genesis would already be building up an army of clones to take on Shinra. “What happened to the SOLDIERs?”

“Some promised to help look for a cure. Most have gone into hiding, trying to keep away from Shinra. I don’t have regular contact with any of them.”

“Perhaps for the best,” Sephiroth said.

Cloud nodded. That this Genesis would, despite the degradation, not stoop to using people as copies… well, he’d turned away from a dangerous abyss. There was hope yet.

“If we can’t find a cure,” Cloud asked. “What will you do?”

Genesis raised the back of his hand to his brow. “Die, inevitably,” he proclaimed theatrically.

“You know what I mean.”

“Are you asking if I’ll attack Shinra?”

“I’m asking if you’re gonna attack innocent people.”

“To lash out like that?” Genesis slowly shook his head. “I’m being threatened by a tiny chocobo with a backwater accent—”

“Hey!”

“— I don’t have the pride left. You’ve taken our revenge from us.”

Cloud glowered at him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“You have already taken your revenge. Hojo is dead and I suspect Hollander will be soon,” Genesis replied. “Apart from perhaps Shinra himself, they are two of the most satisfying targets.”

“If I wanted revenge I wouldn’t have killed him,” Cloud said, shaking his head. “It was just… the safest way. I don’t think he feared death, really. Revenge would have been keeping him alive to watch his work get discredited.”

“So far,” Angeal began, leaning forward, “I have yet to hear a plan.”

“I’ll keep looking for a cure,” Cloud said. “Until then, I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”

Genesis leaned over the table and grabbed Sephiroth’s wrist. “Leave Shinra, please,” he pleaded. “All of you, just… walk away from it.”

Sephiroth jerked his wrist out of Genesis’ grasp and glared back at the man. The table grew tense, both Angeal and Cloud staring at the other two, seeing who would break first.

“Shinra is needed to research the cure,” Cloud said, quieter than normal. “I have to stay there until it’s done.”

“And after that?” Genesis asked, looking to Cloud with hope in his eyes.

“I will leave,” he said slowly, turning to Sephiroth. “If Sephiroth does.”

“We will stay as long as it suits our purposes,” Sephiroth said, nodding and looking at each of them in turn. “Then we will leave. Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to personal reasons it's been a bit hard keeping up with writing, so there won't be a chapter next week. I'll resume the weekly updates the week after!
> 
> (I'd post the chapter I'm working on this week, but I don't want to leave you all with a cliffhanger for two weeks)


	47. New Year's Eve: Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me a lot of trouble so it's particularly short. However I'll post the next chapter later this week once it's finished so as to not keep you all waiting too long! (Please stay with me after this XD)

**December 31 st, [ μ ] – εγλ 2000**

“Hey guys,” Cloud said, slumping into the booth where Denzel and Zack had been seated. He pretended to not notice their flushed faces, nor the way they quickly shuffled apart as soon as he got near. “Denz, can I talk to Zack alone for a minute?”

Denzel glanced between the two of them before giving a hesitant nod. Cloud caught a glimpse of him clutching Zack’s hand under the table before he stood. “Ok, I’ll go and catch up with the guys.”

Zack nodded, looking far more sober in the seconds it had taken between Cloud sitting down and Denzel leaving. “Hey, Cloud,” he said, his voice holding only the barest hint of a slur.

“I guess I gotta talk to you about this, huh?”

Zack laughed and scratched the back of his head. “I know, I hurt him and you kill me, right?”

Cloud shook his head. “I trust you, Zack. I know you’re gonna take care of him.”

Zack looked relieved and confused in equal measure. “Then…?”

“Promise me if you’re uncertain, or something goes wrong, you’ll talk to me or Tifa.”

“That’s kinda awkward, though,” Zack said with a nervous laugh. “You know, talking about that sort of stuff with my boyfriend’s parents.”

He caught Zack’s shy blush on saying ‘boyfriend’ and couldn’t help but smile. “Not just… relationship stuff, but if you need someone your own age maybe talk to Aerith? I just don’t want you getting advice from the barracks or the three First Class stooges over there.”

Zack laughed so hard he snorted, which only made him laugh further. “Ok, ok, I get it. I even promise not to tell them you called them that.”

“One other thing, Zack. My apartment has thin walls and I have enhanced hearing. I don’t need to hear you banging my son.”

Cloud leaned back in the seat, waiting for a flustered Zack that never came. Denzel was right, he was immune to shame.

“You’re assuming it’ll go that way.”

Cloud shrugged. “He gets impaled so often that I’m just assuming he likes it now.”

Well. Not completely immune after all.

* * *

“What was that about?” Angeal asked once Cloud had taken his seat back at their table.

Cloud looked over at Angeal and raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well, he’s— was, my student,” Angeal said. At least he had the decency to look somewhat ashamed by it.

“Have you even talked to him yet?” Cloud asked. He knew the answer and maybe it was twisting the knife a bit too far, but it was hard to resist. The most powerful warriors in the world and it was like trying to get children to eat their vegetables. At least _that_ was something he had experience with.

“No.”

“Then go and _talk_ to him,” Cloud said, not even attempting to keep the exasperation from his voice. “I swear, you idiots need to stop running away from your problems.”

“Yes, dad,” Angeal deadpanned, shuffling past them to leave the booth. Genesis muffled a snigger next to him.

“And eat your damn vegetables!” Cloud called out as he left.

“There is someone I wish to see,” Sephiroth said, standing from the table.

Cloud cocked his head and looked up at Sephiroth. “Huh?”

“If New Year is about spending time with friends,” Sephiroth said, “there is someone I would like to see before the night is over.”

Sephiroth’s face gave nothing away in that unreadable expression of his. “Okay,” Cloud said, shrugging as he brought his beer back up to his lips. The alcohol was making him drowsy, every motion in the room seeming both more fluid and submerged than it usually did. To his left, Genesis watched Sephiroth leave with furrowed brows.

“Be honest; do you really think I can be cured?” Genesis asked once the last flutter of silver hair disappeared out the door.

Cloud bowed his head, searching fruitlessly through his memory for any glimpse, any hint of a trail that could lead him to an answer. “I… think so,” he said, shaking his head clear of the green mist that seemed the surface any time he delved into his own past. “But I don’t know how.”

Genesis threw his back against the seat with a grunt. “My friend, the fates are cruel…”

He was cut of by a rattling noise, growing steadily louder every second that passed. Cloud sat up as he felt the room start to shift, the empty bottles on their table clinking in unison as the floor shook.

“An earthquake?” Genesis asked beside him. The room hushed, everyone on edge as the shaking rose in strength. 

“It’s too long,” Cloud whispered. He stood from the booth, eyes darting around the room as a piercing noise rose in the back of his head until it drowned out even the shouts and shattering glass.

 

* * *

 

Aerith was kneeling in her flowers when she heard the door to the church creaking open. It was nearly midnight, not her usual time for burying her hands in the dirt, but tonight was special. In a few minutes, it would be a new era. The voices, her ancestors, the dead, whatever they were, were more restless than normal. 

_It may bring joy, it may bring fear. But embrace whatever it brings._

Brushing her hands off on her skirt, she turned to face the presence that had entered her church, a polite smile forming on her lips.

“Oh, Sephiroth! You came to visit.”

She felt a chill as he approached, staring her down, not saying a word. The floor was gently shaking beneath her feet, the floorboards creaking together as they shifted.

“Sephiroth?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“You know Cloud,” he said, a dangerous edge to his voice. The way he wrapped his lips around Cloud’s name, almost as if he were savouring it.

“Uh… yeah. I do.”

“I have a present for him,” Sephiroth said, standing just within arms reach of her, as stiff and elegant as she had ever seen him. “Will you give it to him for me?”

“Of course,” she replied, smiling sweetly at him. “What is it?”

She gasped, a blinding pain striking her to the core and spreading an icy chill from her core to the tips of her extremities. It was unlike any pain she had felt before in her life, leaving her weak and out of breath, her legs unable to support her weight.

But why was she still standing?

She looked down and understood. She had never seen Sephiroth’s sword before, but there it was, in the flesh. In her flesh. She hadn’t even seen him move.

The sword was pulled out and she collapsed into the flowers. The last thing she saw before she lost consciousness was the face of her attacker, grinning down at her with nothing but malice.

“Despair.”


	48. New Year's Day

**January 1 st, [ ν ] - εγλ 0001**

The soft dirt of the slums crunched under Sephiroth’s boots as he walked under the twinkling lights. It could have just been his imagination, but the slums looked darker tonight, the plate hovering a little lower. It was said that it was impossible to tell the difference between night and day below the plate, but as the clock approached midnight it seemed the whole city had been swallowed into an inky black sky.

He didn’t know what drew him to the church this night, but the flower girl had been in the back of his mind ever since Genesis had sat down at their table. No, more than that. She had been creeping further into his mind, like a dark thought that only grew the more he tried to suppress it. As he walked closer, he church shone to him in the darkness ahead, light from the streets twinkling off the tattered stained glass windows that ran along its facade. His lip twitched in the hint of a smile as he approached.

Then the ground moved.

It was gentle at first, the slight vibration on felt by the shifting of the dirt beneath his boots and the slight sway of steel poles in the distance. But it grew steadily, each second another shake or rumble until the whole world was creaking in time to the sway of the earth.

Sephiroth broke into a sprint. The church was old, made of stone and nowhere near suited to standing up to an earthquake.

None of Midgar was, it wasn’t near a fault line.

He was getting closer to the door — it was ajar. Was she inside?

He dodged a falling chunk of stone and darted inside the door, only to be stopped dead in his stride as mortar and glass rained around him.

Aerith was on her knees. But only briefly.

The world seemed to fade away as he watched. She slid down a sword — his sword! — and fell motionless in the patch of flowers she had always cared for. He took his first hesitant step towards her.

“Ask him if he remembers now.”

Sephiroth’s eyes snapped up to the figure he had been desperately trying not to see. It was wearing his clothes, holding his sword, staring back with his eyes and grinning with his face.

The only difference was the wing, black feathers stretched majestically out to one side. Just like Genesis.

“Who are you?” Sephiroth snarled, Masamune already in his hand.

“I am who you _should_ be,” his doppelgänger replied. “ _Ask him if he remembers._ ”

With a yell, Sephiroth charged, and in a swirl of feathers and black smoke, the figure disappeared.

As soon as the figure disappeared, the world returned. The church, covered in dust and rubble. Aerith, lying still on the flowerbed. With a steadiness that defied the pounding of his heart, he knelt down next to her and put two fingers on her neck.

It took longer than he would dare admit before he could feel her heartbeat over his own.

 

* * *

 

“Cloud! Cloud!”

Cloud opened his eyes, his brain struggling to catch up. It seemed that no matter how much experience he got with waking up after losing consciousness, he was never any faster at it. Tifa was hovering over him, one hand pressed against his forehead. Denzel stood nervously just a few steps behind.

Back in Seventh Heaven, then. “What happened?” he asked, pulling himself into a sitting position. At least his body was still obeying him.

“You collapsed right after an earthquake,” Zack said. _Zack_. Right, so he was in the _other_ Seventh Heaven. “Just like at your apartment.”

“Did you see anything?” Tifa asked.

Cloud shook his head. No, no being pulled into the Lifestream this time. “The last time it was,” he took a brief glance around the room and took in the many SOLDIERs looking on, “ _her._ The Weapons were supposed to be waking.”

“Weapons? Oh, _shit_ ,” Denzel said, frantically grabbing for his pockets.

“Denz?” Tifa asked.

“We just got a recall notice,” he said, pulling out his phone. “We were about to head up… thought it was because of the earthquakes.”

“Weapons?” Angeal asked.

Cloud shook his head. “A big problem. We need to get back to Shinra.”

“Shinra?” Tifa asked. The disappointment in her voice did not escape his notice.

“We’ve got to use everything we can,” Cloud said with a shrug. With a grunt and a careful hand from Tifa, he struggled to his feet. “Where Vincent?”

Tifa made a few of her own glances around the room before sighing and saying, “Shinra.”

Right. Cloud shook his head, trying to clear the lingering buzz from the alcohol and whatever had knocked him out during the earthquake. The rest of the SOLDIERs were filing out of the room, following Zack’s lead as he herded them out the door. Angeal and Genesis stood at the edge of the bar, shooting uncertain looks his way while Tifa and Denzel stood at his side, looking at him expectantly.

“Well… let’s mosey,” Cloud said, flashing Tifa a short grin and motioning for the two Firsts to follow. They nearly made it to the door before his phone rang.

“Sephiroth?” he asked once he had flipped the phone open.

_Please… meet me … hospital … friend … attacked._

“Someone has been hurt?” Cloud asked, stopping mid-stride to the confused and curious looks of everyone around. He pressed the receiver closer to his ear in the hope that could somehow cut through the snowy static on the call.

_… on the train … please … anything … come quickly._

“Alright, I’ll meet you at the hospital. We were on our way up anyway,” Cloud said, flipping the phone closed and shoving it back in his pocket.

“What did Sephiroth want?” Genesis asked, walking beside him as they left the bar out into the dim, stale air of the slums.

“Something about his friend being attacked,” Cloud said, shaking his head. “He sounded really off.”

“His friend… the one he went to meet?” Genesis asked. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, “That flower girl, perhaps?”

Cloud and Tifa took one look at each other and broke into a frantic sprint, Denzel trailing closely behind them.

 

* * *

 

They just missed the train, the whistle blowing and the doors closing as soon as they climbed the steps up to the station.

So they spent the trip up to Midgar holding on to the sides of the carriage, the train manager screaming at them from the window whenever they passed through a clear section of track.

Some Shinra police were waiting for them as they reached the station nearest the hospital, but there wasn’t even time to hear the yelling before they were barreling past, Tifa kicking one to the ground as he tried to grab her wrist.

Security at the hospital was a lot easier, most of them either recognising Cloud or smart enough to defer to those who did. After one guard correctly assumed he was chasing after Sephiroth and pointed them in the right direction, they were open the doors to one of the private rooms near the emergency department.

“Aerith,” Cloud said under his harried breath, rushing to her side as soon as he saw her lying motionless on the stark white hospital bed.

“You know her?” Sephiroth asked, standing from the side of the bed where he had been seated, clutching at her hand.

“What happened?” Cloud asked, ignoring the question in favour of checking her vitals as quickly as he could manage. Pulse: steady. Low for sleeping, but not concerning. Temperature: fine.

“She was stabbed through the stomach roughly half an hour ago.”

“There’s no blood,” Cloud said, pushing aside the hospital gown to see. “No wound…” His fingers traced over a thin scar… the right size… exactly the same place. “What’s going on?”

“I saw it happen,” Sephiroth said.

“Who stabbed her?” Cloud asked, yanking his fingers away and rounding on Sephiroth.

Sephiroth shook his head and stepped back, but refused to answer.

“ _Who did this_?” Cloud yelled, grabbing Sephiroth’s coat and shoving the larger man up against the wall. He pressed in, growling when Sephiroth turned his head aside, the spikes of his hair barely touching Sephiroth’s chin. “Why are you _hiding_?”

“He looked… like a clone of myself.”

“What?” Cloud asked, the words hitting him like a bucket of icy water. He stepped back, his fingers dropping from their grip around that leather coat.

Sephiroth shook himself off and straightened his back, but still refused to look Cloud in the eye. “Except for the wing, he would have been a perfect copy. He was wearing my uniform. He even carried Masamune, or a copy of it.”

“Cloud…” Tifa said from behind him, “did… he… come back too?”

Sephiroth stilled, pinning Cloud beneath that piercing glare. “He said ‘ _ask him if he remembers.’”_

“It’s him,” Cloud whispered, falling back against the empty bed and burying his head in his hands. Why now? Why did he have to keep reappearing just as things were finally looking up? Why couldn’t he be _free_?

“Now it is _you_ who are hiding, Cloud Strife. Who is he?”

“You. He’s what you turned into after I killed you.”


End file.
